With his eye fixed upon this solicitation for capital, wherein were the words which would formerly have repelled him:  joint stock company, capital stock, public subscription, subscription certificate, and at the head of which he was about to inscribe his name as one of the directors, at the foot of a capitulation, as it were, Sulpice had not seen, standing in the doorway of his half-lighted study, a woman in travelling costume, who stopped for a moment to look at the unfortunate, dejected man within the shade of the lamp which made him look more bald than he was, then advanced gently toward him, coughing slightly—­for she did not dare to call him by his name or touch him with her gloved hand—­to warn him that she was there.

Vaudrey turned round abruptly, instinctively pushing aside Molina’s prospectus, as if he already felt some shame in holding it in his hands.

He flushed as he recognized Adrienne.

The young woman’s reserved attitude showed absolute firmness.  She came to say adieu, she was about to leave.

He had not even the energy to keep her.  He was afraid of an unbending reply that would have been an outrage.

“Do you intend to become associated with Molina?” Adrienne asked in a clear voice, as she looked at Sulpice, who had risen.

“What!  Molina?” he stammered.

“Yes, oh! he understands business.  On leaving, he called on me.  He thought that I had still sufficient influence over you to urge you, as he says, to make your fortune.  He told me that you were in want of money, and after having been sharp enough to try the husband, he offered me, as you might give a commission to a courtesan, I do not know what emerald ornament, if I would advise you to accept his proposals!—­That gentleman does not know the people with whom he is dealing!”

“Wretch!” said Vaudrey.  “He did that?”

“And I thanked him,” Adrienne replied calmly.  “I did not know that you had debts and that, in order to pay them, you had come so near accepting the patronage of such a man.  He told me so and he rendered me and you a service.”

“Me?”

Vaudrey snatched up the prospectus of the Algerian gas and angrily tore it in pieces.

“We shall probably not see each other again,” said Adrienne, in a firm voice that contrasted strangely with her gentle grace; “but I shall never forget that I bear your name and that being mine, I will ever honor it.”

She handed Sulpice a document.

“Here is a power of attorney to Monsieur Beauvais, my notary.  All that you need of my dowry to free yourself from liabilities is yours.  I do not wish to know why you have incurred debts, I am anxious only to know that you have paid them, and my signature provides you with the means to do so.”

Dejected, his heart burning, and his sobs rising, Sulpice uttered a loud cry as he rushed toward her: 

“Adrienne!”