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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Widow Lerouge"

She looked at her lover
tenderly. "Oh, if 'twas only true, my big pet!" said she. "If I only
could believe you!"
The advocate was wounded to the heart. "She believes me," thought he;
"and she is glad. She detests me."
He was mistaken. The idea that a man had loved her sufficiently to ruin
himself for her, without allowing even a reproach to escape him, filled
this woman with joy. She felt herself on the point of loving the man,
now poor and humbled, whom she had despised when rich and proud. But the
expression of her eyes suddenly changed, "What a fool I am," cried she,
"I was on the point of believing all that, and of trying to console
you. Don't pretend that you are one of those gentlemen who scatter their
money broadcast. Tell that to somebody else, my friend! All men in our
days calculate like money-lenders. There are only a few fools who ruin
themselves now, some conceited youngsters, and occasionally an amorous
old dotard. Well, you are a very calm, very grave, and very serious
fellow, but above all, a very strong one."
"Not with you, anyhow," murmured Noel.
"Come now, stop that nonsense! You know very well what you are about.


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