"Spare yourself, madame, and
spare me, the humiliation of an unnecessary explanation."
"Marguerite! Good God! you repulse me. After all you have
promised to do for me, will you not forgive me?"
"I will try to forget, madame," replied the girl and she was
already stepping toward the door when the baroness threw herself
at her feet, crying, in a heart-rending tone: "Have pity,
Marguerite, I am your mother. One has no right to deny one's own
mother."
But the young girl passed on. "My mother is dead, madame; I do
not know you!" And she left the room without even turning her
head, without even glancing at the baroness, who had fallen upon
the floor in a deep swoon.
XIX
Baron Trigault still held Madame de Fondege a prisoner in the
hall. What did he say to her in justification of the expedient he
had improvised? His own agitation was so great that he scarcely
knew, and it mattered but little after all, for the good lady did
not even pretend to listen to his apologies. Although by no means
overshrewd, she suspected some great mystery, some bit of scandal,
perhaps, and her eyes never once wandered from the door leading to
the boudoir. At last this door opened and Mademoiselle Marguerite
reappeared. "Great heavens!" exclaimed Madame de Fondege; "what
has happened to my poor child?"
For the unfortunate girl advanced with an automatic tread, her
eyes fixed on vacancy, and her hands outstretched, as if feeling
her way.
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