The French Immortals Series — Complete by Various
page 307 of 2783 (11%)
page 307 of 2783 (11%)
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"No," replied Serge, in a low voice. "You are wrong. Fortune is capricious, and in six months we may be richer than we ever have been. But as you have decided, let me give you a piece of advice which will be worth the money you have lost. Confess all to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty." The financier held out a hand to Serge which he did not take. "Ah! pride!" murmured Herzog. "After all it is your right--It is you who pay!" Without answering a word the Prince went out. At that same hour, Madame Desvarennes, tired by long waiting, was pacing up and down her little drawing-room. A door opened and Marechal, the long-looked for messenger, appeared. He had been to Cayrol's, but could not see him. The banker, who had shut himself up in his private office where he had worked all night, had given orders that no one should interrupt him. And as Madame Desvarennes seemed to have a question on her lips which she dared not utter, Marechal added that nothing unusual seemed to have happened at the house. But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Marechal flew to the window, and uttered one word, "Cayrol!" |
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