before she died, she called me to her side. 'Oh, I love you so! I love
you so!' she said. 'I never loved any but you--you only! Pardon me!--
oh, pardon me!' Pardon her, poor child! My God, for what? for dying?
--for she never gave me a moment's grief before in this world. Oh, God
of mercy!"

"I beseech you, my friend--"

"Yes, yes, I do wrong. You also have your griefs.

"But we are all selfish, you know. However, it was not of that that I
came to speak. Tell me--I know not whether a report I hear is correct.
Pardon me if I mistake, for you know I never would dream of offending
you; but they say that you have been left in very bad circumstances. If
this is indeed so, my friend--"

"It is not," interrupted Camors, abruptly.

"Well, if it were--I do not intend keeping my little house. Why should
I, now? My little son can wait while I work for him. Then, after
selling my house, I shall have two hundred thousand francs. Half of this
is yours--return it when you can!"

"I thank you, my unselfish friend," replied Camors, much moved, "but I
need nothing. My affairs are disordered, it is true; but I shall still
remain richer than you."

"Yes, but with your tastes--"

"Well?"