for which she
paid her five francs every day. The old woman, taking her silence for
consent, put no longer any restraint upon herself. She declared she
could not comprehend how her "little pussy-cat," young and pretty as she
was, could consent to live as she did. Was that a life?

Then she always came back to M. Maxime, who continued to call regularly
twice a day, the poor young man!

"And more than that, poor little pussy," she added, "you will see that
one of these days he will summon courage enough to come and offer you an
apology."

But Henrietta would not believe that.

"He will never have such consummate impudence," she thought.

He had it, nevertheless. One morning, when she had just finished
righting up her room, somebody knocked discreetly, at her door. Thinking
that it was Mrs. Chevassat, who brought her her breakfast, she went to
the door and opened it, without asking who was there. And she started
back with amazement and with terror when she recognized M. de Brevan.

It really looked as if he were making a supreme effort over himself. He
was deadly pale; his lips trembled; his eyes looked dim and uncertain;
and he moved his lips and jaws as if he had gravel in his mouth.

"I have come, madam," he said, "to ask if you have reconsidered."

She made no reply, looking at him with an air of contempt which would
have caused a man with some remnant of honor in his heart to flee from
the spot instantly. But he had, no doubt, armed himself beforehand,
against contempt.

"I know," he continued, "that my conduct must appear abominable in
your eyes. I have led you into this snare, and I have meanly betrayed a
friend's confidence; but I have an excuse. My passion is stronger than
my will, than my reason."

"A vile passion for money!"

"You may think so, madam, if you choose. I shall not even attempt to
clear myself. That is not what I came for. I came solely for the purpose
of enlightening you in regard to your own position, which you do not
seem to realize."

If she had followed her own impulses, Henrietta would have driven the
wretch away. But she thought she ought to know his intentions and his
plans. She overcame her disgust, therefore, and remained silent.

"In the first place," said M. de Brevan, apparently trying to collect
his thoughts, "bear this in mind, madam. You are ruined in reputation,
and ruined through me. All Paris is convinced, by this time, that I have
run away with you; and that I ke