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his mind his plans of fortune; for ambition was all that was left to

him, as to other men who have sucked dry the orange of pleasure.



Ambition and play are inexhaustible; in a well-organized man the

passions which proceed from the brain will always survive the passions



of the heart.

"Here am I," said Suzanne, sitting down on the bed and jangling the



curtain-rings back along the rod with despotic vehemence.

"Quesaco, my charmer?" said the old bachelor, sitting up in bed.



"Monsieur," said Suzanne, gravely, "you must be astonished to see me

here at this hour; but I find myself in a condition which obliges me



not to care for what people may say about it."

"What does all that mean?" said du Bousquier, crossing his arms.



"Don't you understand me?" said Suzanne. "I know," she continued,

making a pretty little face, "how ridiculous it is in a poor girl to



come and nag at a man for what he thinks a mere nothing. But if you

really knew me, monsieur, if you knew all that I am capable of for a



man who would attach himself to me as much as I'm attached to you, you

would never repent having married me. Of course it isn't here, in



Alencon, that I should be of service to you; but if we went to Paris,

you would see where I could lead a man with your mind and your



capacities; and just at this time too, when they are remaking the

government from top to toe. So--between ourselves, be it said--IS what



has happened a misfortune? Isn't it rather a piece of luck, which will

pay you well? Who and what are you working for now?"



"For myself, of course!" cried du Bousquier, brutally.

"Monster! you'll never be a father!" said Suzanne, giving a tone of



prophetic malediction to the words.

"Come, don't talk nonsense, Suzanne," replied du Bousquier; "I really



think I am still dreaming."

"How much more reality do you want?" cried Suzanne, standing up.



Du Bousquier rubbed his cotton night-cap to the top of his head with a

rotatory motion, which plainly indicated the tremendous fermentation



of his ideas.

"He actually believes it!" thought Suzanne, "and he's flattered.



Heaven! how easy it is to gull men!"

"Suzanne, what the devil must I do? It is so extraordinary--I, who



thought-- The fact is that-- No, no, it can't be--"

"What? you can't marry me?"



"Oh! as for that, no; I have engagements."

"With Mademoiselle Armande or Mademoiselle Cormon, who have both



refused you? Listen to me, Monsieur du Bousquier, my honor doesn't

need gendarmes to drag you to the mayor's office. I sha'n't lack for



husbands, thank goodness! and I don't want a man who can't appreciate

what I'm worth. But some day you'll repent of the way you are



behaving; for I tell you now that nothing on earth, neither gold nor

silver, will induce me to return the good thing that belongs to you,



if you refuse to accept it to-day."

"But, Suzanne, are you sure?"



"Oh, monsieur!" cried the grisette, wrapping her virtue round her,

"what do you take me for? I don't remind you of the promises you made



me, which have ruined a poor young girl whose only blame was to have

as much ambition as love."



Du Bousquier was torn with conflicting sentiments, joy, distrust,

calculation. He had long determined to marry Mademoiselle Cormon; for



the Charter, on which he had just been ruminating, offered to his

ambition, through the half of her property, the political career of a



deputy. Besides, his marriage with the old maid would put him socially

so high in the town that he would have great influence. Consequently,



the storm upraised by that malicious Suzanne drove him into the

wildest embarrassment. Without this secret scheme, he would have



married Suzanne without hesitation. In which case, he could openly




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