I did bitterly reproach Sarah for her treachery and tried to still her protestations of love by pointing out to her that I had absolutely no fortune, and could only offer her a life of squalor, not to say of what.  But this she knew, and vowed that penury by my side would make her happier than luxury beside any other man.  Ah, Sir, ’tis given to few men to arouse such selfless passion in a woman’s heart, and it hath oft been my dream in the past one day thus to be adored for myself alone!

But for the moment I was too deeply angered to listen placidly to Sarah’s vows of undying affection.  My nerves were irritated by her fulsome adulation; indeed, I could not bear the sight of her nor yet the sound of her voice.  You may imagine how thankful I was when the chaise came at last to a halt outside the humble little hostelry where I had engaged the room which I had so fondly hoped would have been occupied by the lovely and fickle Leah.

I bundled Mlle. Goldberg senior into the house, and here again I had to endure galling mortification in the shape of sidelong glances cast at me and my future bride by the landlord of the hostelry and his ill-bred daughter.  When I engaged the room I had very foolishly told them that it would be occupied by a lovely lady who had consented to be my wife, and that she would remain here in happy seclusion until such time as all arrangements for our wedding were complete.  The humiliation of these vulgar people’s irony seemed like the last straw which overweighed my forbearance.  The room and pension I had already paid two days in advance, so I had nothing more to say either to the ribald landlord or to Mlle. Goldberg senior.  I was bitterly angered against her, and refused her the solace of a kindly look or of an encouraging pressure from my hand, even though she waited for both with the pathetic patience of an old spaniel.

I re-entered the coach, which was to take me back to mine own humble lodgings in Passy.  Here at least I was alone—­alone with my gloomy thoughts.  My heart was full of wrath against the woman who had so basely tricked me, and I viewed with dismay amounting almost to despair the prospect of spending the rest of my life in her company.  That night I slept but little, nor yet the following night, or the night after that.  Those days I spent in seclusion, thankful for my solitude.

Twice each day did Mlle. Goldberg come to my lodgings.  In the foolish past I had somewhat injudiciously acquainted her of where I lived.  Now she came and asked to be allowed to see me, but invariably did I refuse thus to gratify her.  I felt that time alone would perhaps soften my feelings a little towards her.  In the meanwhile I must commend her discretion and delicacy of procedure.  She did not in any way attempt to molest me.  When she was told by Theodore—­whom I employed during the day to guard me against unwelcome visitors—­that I refused to see her, she invariably went away without demur, nor did she refer in any way, either with adjurations or threats, to the impending wedding.  Indeed, Sir, she was a lady of vast discretion.