No, M. Wilkie was
quite above such paltry considerations--good enough for
commonplace and antiquated people. "He was too clever for that.
Ah! yes. He had a stronger stomach, and was up with the times!"
If he were sorely vexed in spirit it was because he thought that
the immense property which he had believed his own had slipped,
perhaps for ever, from his grasp. For rising threateningly
between the Chalusse millions and himself, he pictured the form of
his father, this man whom he did not know, but whose very name had
made Madame d'Argeles shudder.
M. Wilkie was seized with terror when he looked his actual
situation in the face. What was to become of him? He was certain
that Madame d'Argeles would not give him another sou. She could
not--he recognized that fact. His intelligence was equal to that.
On the other hand, if he ever obtained anything from the count's
estate, which was more than doubtful, would he not be obliged to
wait a long time for it? Yes, in all probability such would be the
case. Then how should he live, how would he be able to obtain
food in the meantime? His despair was so poignant that tears came
to his eyes; and he bitterly deplored the step he had taken. Yes,
he actually sighed for the past; he longed to live over again the
very years in which he had so often complained of his destiny.
Then, though not a millionaire by any means, he at least wanted
for nothing.
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