“What do you mean?”

“Pray, do you imagine that I can go on while you glare at me with that angry frown puckering your forehead, as if you had someone before you who had tried to insult you?”

A sweet smile chased the frown from the notary’s brow.  Encouraged by the suspension of hostilities, Madame Rapally with sudden boldness approached him, and, pressing one of his hands in both her own, whispered—­

“It is I who am going to lend you the money.”

He repulsed her gently, but with an air of great dignity, and said—­

“Madame, I thank you, but I cannot accept.”

“Why can’t you?”

At this he began to walk round and round the room, while the widow, who stood in the middle, turned as upon a pivot, keeping him always in view.  This circus-ring performance lasted some minutes before Quennebert stood still and said—­

“I cannot be angry with you, Madame Rapally, I know your offer was made out of the kindness of your heart,—­but I must repeat that it is impossible for me to accept it.”

“There you go again!  I don’t understand you at all!  Why can’t you accept?  What harm would it do?”

“If there were no other reason, because people might suspect that I confided my difficulties to you in the hope of help.”

“And supposing you did, what then?  People speak hoping to be understood.  You wouldn’t have minded asking anyone else.”

“So you really think I did come in that hope?”

“Mon Dieu!  I don’t think anything at all that you don’t want.  It was I who dragged the confidence from you by my questions, I know that very well.  But now that you have told me your secret, how can you hinder me from sympathising with you, from desiring to aid you?  When I learned your difficulty, ought I to have been amused, and gone into fits of laughter?  What! it’s an insult to be in a position to render you a service!  That’s a strange kind of delicacy!”

“Are you astonished that I should feel so strongly about it?”

“Nonsense!  Do you still think I meant to offend you?  I look on you as the most honourable man in the world.  If anyone were to tell me that he had seen you commit a base action, I should reply that it was a lie.  Does that satisfy you?”

“But suppose they got hold of it in the city, suppose it were reported that Maitre Quennebert had taken money from Madame de Rapally, would it be the same as if they said Maitre Quennebert had borrowed twelve hundred livres from Monsieur Robert or some other business man?”

“I don’t see what difference it could make.”

“But I do.”

“What then?”

“It’s not easy to express, but——­”

“But you exaggerate both the service and the gratitude you ought to feel.  I think I know why you refuse.  You’re ashamed to take it as a gift, aren’t you.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, I’m not going to make you a gift.  Borrow twelve hundred livres from me.  For how long do you want the money?”