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She took a bag of gold from the ebony cabinet; and threw it
contemptuously at the old woman's feet。 The chink of the gold was
potent enough to excite a smile on the Georgian's impassive face。

〃I come at the right moment for you; my sister;〃 said Henri。 〃The law
will ask of you〃

〃Nothing;〃 replied the Marquise。 〃One person alone might ask for a
reckoning for the death of this girl。 Cristemio is dead。〃

〃And the mother;〃 said Henri; pointing to the old woman。 〃Will you not
always be in her power?〃

〃She comes from a country where women are not beings; but things
chattels; with which one does as one wills; which one buys; sells; and
slays; in short; which one uses for one's caprices as you; here; use a
piece of furniture。 Besides; she has one passion which dominates all
the others; and which would have stifled her maternal love; even if
she had loved her daughter; a passion〃

〃What?〃 Henri asked quickly; interrupting his sister。

〃Play! God keep you from it;〃 answered the Marquise。

〃But whom have you;〃 said Henri; looking at the girl of the golden
eyes; 〃who will help you to remove the traces of this fantasy which
the law would not overlook?〃

〃I have her mother;〃 replied the Marquise; designating the Georgian;
to whom she made a sign to remain。

〃We shall meet again;〃 said Henri; who was thinking anxiously of his
friends and felt that it was time to leave。

〃No; brother;〃 she said; 〃we shall not meet again。 I am going back to
Spain to enter the Convent of /los Dolores/。〃

〃You are too young yet; too lovely;〃 said Henri; taking her in his
arms and giving her a kiss。

〃Good…bye;〃 she said; 〃there is no consolation when you have lost that
which has seemed to you the infinite。〃

A week later Paul de Manerville met De Marsay in the Tuileries; on the
Terrasse de Feuillants。

〃Well; what has become of our beautiful girl of the golden eyes; you
rascal?〃

〃She is dead。〃

〃What of?〃

〃Consumption。〃



PARIS; March 1834…April 1835。








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