ontinued, "and explain yourself afterward.
You have broken your word--you are deceiving my confidence! But
I tell you, you shall not marry her!" Then, without awaiting his
reply, she overwhelmed him with reproaches. Why had he come here
at all? She was happy in her home before she knew him. She did
not love Sauvresy, it was true; but she esteemed him, and he was
good to her. Ignorant of the happiness of true love, she did not
desire it. But he had come, and she could not resist his
fascination. And now, after having engaged her affection, he was
going to desert her, to marry another! Tremorel listened to her,
perfectly amazed at her audacity. What! She dared to pretend that
it was he who had abused her innocence, when, on the contrary, he
had sometimes been astonished at her persistency! Such was the
depth of her corruption, as it seemed to him, that he wondered
whether he were her first or her twentieth lover. And she had so
led him on, and had so forcibly made him feel the intensity of her
will, that he had been fain still to submit to this despotism. But
he had now determined to resist on the first opportunity; and he
resisted.

"Well, yes," said he, frankly, "I did deceive you; I have no fortune
--this marriage will give me one; I shall get married." He went on
to say that he loved Laurence less than ever, but that he coveted
her money more and more every day. "To prove this," he pursued,
"if you will find me to-morrow a girl who has twelve hundred
thousand francs instead of a million, I will marry her in preference
to Mademoiselle Courtois."

She had never suspected he had so much courage. She had so long
moulded him like soft wax, and this unexpected conduct disconcerted
her. She was indignant, but at the same time she felt that
unhealthy satisfaction that some women feel, when they meet a master
who subdues them; and she admired Tremorel more than ever before.
This time, he had taken a tone which conquered her; she despised
him enough to think him quite capable of marrying for money. When
he had done, she said:

"It's really so, then; you only care for the million of dowry?"

"I've sworn it to you a hundred times."

"Truly now, don't you love Laurence?"

"I have never loved her, and never shall." He thought that he would
thus secure his peace until the wedding-day; once married, he cared
not what would happen. What cared he for Sauvresy? Life is only a
succession of broken friendships. What is a friend,