y good," she said at last. (She had not given herself up to
the love expressed in her face; her mind had been entirely absorbed by
deep-laid schemes which she kept to herself.) "But _that_ is not the
question, dear." (The "angel" was only "that" by this time.) "Let us
think of your affairs. Yes, we will go, and the sooner the better.
Arrange it all; I will follow you. It is glorious to leave Paris and the
world behind. I will set about my preparations in such a way that no one
can suspect anything."

_I will follow you_! Just so Mlle. Mars might have spoken those words
to send a thrill through two thousand listening men and women. When a
Duchesse de Maufrigneuse offers, in such words, to make such a sacrifice
to love, she has paid her debt. How should Victurnien speak of sordid
details after that? He could so much the better hide his schemes,
because Diane was particularly careful not to inquire into them. She
was now, and always, as de Marsay said, an invited guest at a banquet
wreathed with roses, a banquet which mankind, as in duty bound, made
ready for her.

Victurnien would not go till the promise had been sealed. He must draw
courage from his happiness before he could bring himself to do a deed on
which, as he inwardly told himself, people would be certain to put a
bad construction. Still (and this was the thought that decided him) he
counted on his aunt and father to hush up the affair; he even counted
on Chesnel. Chesnel would think of one more compromise. Besides, "this
business," as he called it in his thoughts, was the only way of raising
money on the family estate. With three hundred thousand francs, he and
Diane would lead a happy life hidden in some palace in Venice; and there
they would forget the world. They went through their romance in advance.

Next day Victurnien made out a bill for three hundred thousand francs,
and took it to the Kellers. The Kellers advanced the money, for du
Croisier happened to have a balance at the time; but they wrote to let
him know that he must not draw again on them without giving them notice.
Du Croisier, much astonished, asked for a statement of accounts. It was
sent. Everything was explained. The day of his vengeance had arrived.

When Victurnien had drawn "his" money, he took it to Mme. de
Maufrigneuse. She locked up the banknotes in her desk, and proposed
to bid the world farewell by going to the Opera to see it for the last
time. Victurnien was thoughtful, abse