spent the night on an
excellent bed, undisturbed by pressing anxieties; and he appeared
in the morning sleek and well-dressed, the disorder and desperation
of the previous evening having quite disappeared. He had a nature
not deeply impressible by events; twenty-four hours consoled him
for the worst catastrophes, and he soon forgot the severest lessons
of life. If Sauvresy had bid him begone, he would not have known
where to go; yet he had already resumed the haughty carelessness of
the millionnaire, accustomed to bend men and circumstances to his
will. He was once more calm and cold, coolly joking, as if years
had passed since that night at the hotel, and as if all the disasters
to his fortune had been repaired. Bertha was amazed at this
tranquillity after such great reverses, and thought this childish
recklessness force of character.

"Now," said Sauvresy, "as I've become your man of business, give me
my instructions, and some valuable hints. What is, or was, the
amount of your fortune?"

"I haven't the least idea."

Sauvresy provided himself with a pencil and a large sheet of paper,
ready to set down the figures. He seemed a little surprised.

"All right," said he, "we'll put x down as the unknown quantity of
the assets: now for the liabilities."

Hector made a superbly disdainful gesture.

"Don't know, I'm sure, what they are."

"What, can't you give a rough guess?"

"Oh, perhaps. For instance, I owe between five and six hundred
thousand francs to Clair & Co., five hundred thousand to Dervoy;
about as much to Dubois, of Orleans--"

"Well?"

"I can't remember any more."

"But you must have a memorandum of your loans somewhere?"

"No."

"You have at least kept your bonds, bills, and the sums of your
various debts?"

"None of them. I burnt up all my papers yesterday."

Sauvresy jumped up from his chair in astonishment; such a method
of doing business seemed to him monstrous; he could not suppose
that Hector was lying. Yet he was lying, and this affectation of
ignorance was a conceit of the aristocratic man of the world. It
was very noble, very distingue, to ruin one's self without knowing
how!

"But, my dear fellow," cried Sauvresy, "how can we clear up your
affairs?"

"Oh, don't clear them up at all; do as I do--let the creditors act
as they please, they will know how to settle it all, rest assured;
let them sell out my property."

"Never! Then you would be ruined, indeed!"

"Well, it's o