"If the man came
here," she murmured, "it was only because he thought he might
derive some benefit from the prosecution of my claim to my poor
brother's estate. In refusing to listen to his entreaties, I have
deprived him of this expected profit and so I have made him my
enemy. Ah! I was foolish to send him away like that! I ought to
have pretended to listen--I ought to have bound him by all sorts
of promises."
She suddenly paused. It occurred to her that M. Fortunat could
not have gone very far; so that, if she sent for him to come back,
she might perhaps be able to repair her blunder. Without losing a
second, she rushed downstairs, and ordered her concierge and a
servant to run after the gentleman who had just left the house,
and ask him to return; to tell him that she had reflected, and
wished to speak to him again. They rushed out in pursuit, and she
remained in the courtyard, her heart heavy with anxiety. Too
late! About a quarter of an hour afterward her emissaries
returned. They had made all possible haste in contrary
directions, but they had seen no one in the street who at all
resembled the person they were looking for. They had questioned
the shopkeepers, but no one had seen him pass. "It doesn't
matter," faltered Madame d'Argeles, in a tone that belied her
words. And, anxious to escape the evident curiosity of her
servants, she hastened back to the little boudoir where she
usually spent her mornings.
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