"So, then, peace to villains, war to the sorrowful, and let's deify
gold! However, we will drop the subject," I added, laughing. "Do you
see that young girl who is just entering the salon?"
"Yes, what of her?"
"I met her, three days ago, at the ball of the Neapolitan ambassador,
and I am passionately in love with her. For pity's sake tell me her
name. No one was able--"
"That is Mademoiselle Victorine Taillefer."
I grew dizzy.
"Her step-mother," continued my neighbor, "has lately taken her from a
convent, where she was finishing, rather late in the day, her
education. For a long time her father refused to recognize her. She
comes here for the first time. She is very beautiful and very rich."
These words were accompanied by a sardonic smile.
At this moment we heard violent, but smothered outcries; they seemed
to come from a neighboring apartment and to be echoed faintly back
through the garden.
"Isn't that the voice of Monsieur Taillefer?" I said.
We gave our full attention to the noise; a frightful moaning reached
our ears. The wife of the banker came hurriedly towards us and closed
the window.
"Let us avoid a scene," she said. "If Mademoiselle Taillefer hears her
father, she might be thrown into hysterics."
The banker now re-entered the salon, looked round for Victorine, and
said a few words in her ear.
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