“Yes, I!” answered the banker, with energy.

“Wretched man!  And my daughter?” cried the mistress.  “Think well what you are saying!  You would disgrace me and mine.”

“Am I not dishonored myself?” asked Cayrol.  “Your son-in-law is a robber, who has defiled my home and robbed my safe.”

“An honest man does not seek to revenge himself after the manner you suggest,” said the mistress, gravely.

“An honest man defends himself as he can.  I am not a knight.  I am only a financier.  Money is my weapon.  The Prince has stolen from me.  I will have him sentenced as a thief.”

Madame Desvarennes frowned.

“Make out your account.  I will pay it.”

“Will you also pay me for my lost happiness?” cried the banker, exasperated.  “Should I not rather have chosen to be ruined than be betrayed as I am?  You can never repair the wrong he has done me.  And then I am suffering so, I must have my revenge!”

“Ah! fool that you are,” replied Madame Desvarennes.  “The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent.  When my daughter and I are in despair will you be less unhappy!  Oh!  Cayrol, take heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge.  The less one is respected by others the more one must respect one’s self.  Contempt and silence elevate the victim, while rage and hatred make him descend to the level of those who have outraged him.”

“Let people judge me as they please.  I care only for myself!  I am a vulgar soul, and have a low mind—­anything you like.  But the idea that that woman belongs to another drives me mad.  I ought to hate her, but, notwithstanding everything, I cannot live without her.  If she will come back to me I will forgive her.  It is ignoble!  I feel it, but it is too strong for me.  I adore her!”

Before that blind love Madame Desvarennes shuddered.  She thought of Micheline who loved Serge as Cayrol loved Jeanne.

“Suppose she chooses to go away with Serge,” said the mistress to herself.  In a moment she saw the house abandoned, Micheline and Serge in foreign lands, and she alone in the midst of her overthrown happiness, dying of sadness and regrets.  She made a last effort to move Cayrol.

“Come, must I appeal in vain?  Can you forget that I was a sure and devoted friend to you, and that you owe your fortune to me?  You are a good man and will not forget the past.  You have been outraged and have the right of seeking revenge, but think that in carrying it out you will hurt two women who have never done you any harm.  Be generous!  Be just!  Spare us!”

Cayrol remained silent; his face did not relax.  After a moment he said: 

“You see how low I have fallen, by not yielding at once to your supplications!  Friendship, gratitude, generosity, all the good feelings I had, have been consumed by this execrable love.  There is nothing left but love for her.  For her, I forget everything.  I degrade and debase myself.  And what is worse than all, is that I know all this and yet I cannot help myself.”