rth forty thousand francs a year, and during the ten years that
he has had it, he has paid off the security and put aside a dowry for
my sister. My father is the most honourable man in the world. When
my mother died, she left six thousand francs a year, which he divided
between my sister and myself on the very day when he received his
appointment; then, when I was twenty-one, he added to this little income
an annual allowance of five thousand francs, assuring me that with
eight thousand francs a year I might live very happily at Paris, if, in
addition to this, I would make a position for myself either in law or
medicine. I came to Paris, studied law, was called to the bar, and, like
many other young men, put my diploma in my pocket, and let myself drift,
as one so easily does in Paris.

My expenses were very moderate; only I used up my year's income in
eight months, and spent the four summer months with my father, which
practically gave me twelve thousand francs a year, and, in addition, the
reputation of a good son. For the rest, not a penny of debt.

This, then, was my position when I made the acquaintance of Marguerite.
You can well understand that, in spite of myself, my expenses soon
increased. Marguerite's nature was very capricious, and, like so many
women, she never regarded as a serious expense those thousand and one
distractions which made up her life. So, wishing to spend as much time
with me as possible, she would write to me in the morning that she would
dine with me, not at home, but at some restaurant in Paris or in the
country. I would call for her, and we would dine and go on to the
theatre, often having supper as well; and by the end of the evening I
had spent four or five louis, which came to two or three thousand francs
a month, which reduced my year to three months and a half, and made it
necessary for me either to go into debt or to leave Marguerite. I would
have consented to anything except the latter.

Forgive me if I give you all these details, but you will see that they
were the cause of what was to follow. What I tell you is a true and
simple story, and I leave to it all the naivete of its details and all
the simplicity of its developments.

I realized then that as nothing in the world would make me forget my
mistress, it was needful for me to find some way of meeting the expenses
into which she drew me. Then, too, my love for her had so disturbing
an influence upon me that every moment I s