skillful and profound physiognomist, instantly perceived the impression
he had produced. "Come," said he to himself, "that is a great step.
Fright has succeeded to disdain and anger. Doubt will come next. I shall
not leave this place, till she has said to me: 'Return soon, my good M.
Baleinier!'" With a voice of sorrowful emotion, which seemed to come from
the very depths of his heart, the doctor thus continued: "I see, you are
still suspicious of me. All I can say to you is falsehood, fraud,
hypocrisy, hate--is it not so?--Hate you? why, in heaven's name, should I
hate you? What have you done to me? or rather--you will perhaps attach
more value to this reason from a man of my sort," added M. Baleinier,
bitterly, "or rather, what interest have I to hate you?--You, that have
only been reduced to the state in which you are by an over abundance of
the most generous instincts--you, that are suffering, as it were, from an
excess of good qualities--you can bring yourself coolly and deliberately
to accuse an honest man, who has never given you any but marks of
affection, of the basest, the blackest, the most abominable crime, of
which a human being could be guilty. Yes, I call it a crime; because the
audacious deception of which you accuse me would not deserve any other
name. Really, my poor child, it is hard--very hard--and I now see, that
an independent spirit may sometimes exhibit as much injustice and
intolerance as the most narrow mind. It does not incense me--no--it only
pains me: yes, I assure you--it pains me cruelly." And the doctor drew
his hand across his moist eyes.

It is impossible to give the accent, the look, the gesture of M.
Baleinier, as he thus expressed himself. The most able and practiced
lawyer, or the greatest actor in the world, could not have played this
scene with more effect than the doctor--or rather, no one could have
played it so well--M. Baleinier, carried away by the influence of the
situations, was himself half convinced of what he said.

In few words, he felt all the horror of his own perfidy but he felt also
that Adrienne could not believe it; for there are combinations of such
nefarious character, that pure and upright minds are unable to comprehend
them as possible. If a lofty spirit looks down into the abyss of evil,
beyond a certain depth it is seized with giddiness, and no longer able to
distinguish one object from the other.

And then the most perverse of men have a day, an hour, a mo