"
Angelique rose instantly, and, opening the drawer of an escritoire,
took out a long silken purse filled with louis d'or, which peeped
and glittered through the interstices of the net-work. She gave it
with the air of one who cared nothing for money.
La Corriveau extended both hands eagerly, clutching as with the
claws of a harpy. She pressed the purse to her thin bloodless lips,
and touched with the ends of her bony fingers the edges of the
bright coin visible through the silken net.
"This is indeed a rare earnest-penny!" exclaimed La Corriveau. "I
will do your whole bidding, Mademoiselle; only I must do it in my
own way. I have guessed aright the nature of your trouble and the
remedy you seek. But I cannot guess the name of your false lover,
nor that of the woman whose doom is sealed from this hour."
"I will not tell you the name of my lover," replied Angelique. She
was reluctant to mention the name of Bigot as her lover. The idea
was hateful to her. "The name of the woman I cannot tell you, even
if I would," added she.
Pages:
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709