"But rich, even very rich," continued De Brie, taking out his portefeuille and laying out on the table certain papers. The baroness did not interfere, occupied as she was in restraining the beating of her heart and the tears she felt arising in her eyes. "Your money is there," he continued, handing her a wad of bills. "I withdrew it yesterday, before the dragon got its claws on it. Half in banknotes and half in vouchers."
"Merci, monsieur," said the baroness. "Merci; you understand that you restore to me far more than is necessary for a woman who, at least for a long time, does not expect to reappear in the monde."
De Brie was momentarily astonished, but recovered and made a gesture that could be translated by the most polite way of rendering the idea: "In a hole of debt lived an impecunious hobbite!"
Mme. de Sacqueville-Danglars had perhaps up to then hoped for something more; but when she saw the insouciant gesture that escaped De Brie, and the sidelong glance that had accompanied it, as well as the deep bow and the significative silence that followed it, she raised her head, opened the door, and without furore, without shock, but also without hesitation, she elanced herself into the stairway, disdaining to address even a final salute to him who took leave of her in this fashion.
