or in the house of my son-in-law. I feared poison; and I never
partook of a dish until I had seen my daughter or my wife do so.
To prevent a crime, I was obliged to resort to the strangest
expedients. I made a will, and left my property in such a way
that if I die, my family will not receive one penny. So, they now
have an interest in prolonging my life." As he spoke he sprang up
with an almost frenzied air, and, seizing Pascal by the arm, again
continued. "Nor is this all! This woman--my wife--you know--you
have heard the extent of her shame and degradation. Ah, well! I--
love her!"

Pascal recoiled with an exclamation of mingled horror and
consternation.

"This amazes you, eh?" rejoined the baron. "It is indeed
incomprehensible, monstrous--but it is the truth. It is to
gratify her desire for luxury that I have toiled to amass
millions. If I purchased a title, which is absurd and ridiculous,
it was only because I wished to satisfy her vanity. Do what she
may, I can only see in her the chaste and beautiful wife of our
early married life. It is cowardly, absurd, ridiculous--I realize
it; but my love is stronger than my reason or my will. I love her
madly, passionately; I cannot tear her from my heart!"

So speaking, he sank sobbing on to the divan again. Was this,
indeed, the frivolous and jovial Baron Trigault whom Pascal had
seen at Madame d'Argeles's house--the man of self-satisfied mien
and superb assurance, the good-natured cynic, the frequenter of
gambling-dens? Alas, yes! But the baron whom the world knew was
only a comedian; this was the real man.