"What does it matter to him what is going on? Is it he who will feel the
blow? No. He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness
and maintain him in luxury. I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed
by this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other
people's safes, for then I should be unable to save him."

The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room.

"Oh, the wretch!" she said. "If ever my daughter ceases to come between
him and me!"

A terrible gesture finished the sentence.

Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other. The same thought came
to their minds, dark and fearful. In a paroxysm of rage this fond
mother, this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing
any one.

"You remember what I told you one day," murmured Marechal, approaching
Cayrol.

"I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman," answered
Cayrol.

"Cayrol!" continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of
meditation, "the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a
little while ago depends solely on you, does it not?"

"On me alone."