"The lie and the deceit are one," she returned. "You sent for this other
woman, this Mademoiselle St. Clair. It was not your servant's plan.
Latour was a fool to believe you."

"Was he? My dear, wise Pauline, his point of view and yours are not the
same. You are jealous, whereas he--"

"I stop at nothing when I am jealous," she said. "The sooner you
discover that phase in my character the better for you, Lucien."

"I discovered that after I had known you ten minutes," laughed Lucien,
"and I am not afraid. Shall I tell you why? I have not deceived you, nor
have I any intention of doing so. This Latour is too inquisitive, and
inquisitiveness is always asking for a lie. Latour got it and is quite
satisfied. Mademoiselle Pauline Vaison is a woman, a woman in love, and
just because she is so, is suspicious. All women in love are. So I have
not told her all my plans. To complete them it was necessary to get
Mademoiselle St. Clair to Paris, so I sent for her."

"You are in love with her. You--"

"She is rich," Bruslart answered. "Her fortune is in her own hands.
Wait, Pauline. Had I wanted to marry her, what was to prevent my
crossing the frontier when so many of my friends and acquaintances did?
But I am in love with her fortune. If I am to make myself felt in Paris,
if I am to do what I have set my heart to accomplish, money I must have.
True, I am not penniless like some of our ragged patriotic comrades,
but, believe me, power will eventually rest with the man who can scatter
the most gold to the people. That man I am scheming to be."