The Grip of Desire Part 59

--And you believe that I shall be satisfied with this fine promise? You will let me have my money back immediately, or I shall certainly accuse you of being a thief ... an adventuress.

--I will say what happened. It was you who compelled me to take the money for the coach-fare.

--I make you a present of that, but you will have to pay all that you have spent here; if not, you will be put in prison, you understand, little good-for-nothing? Do you think people are going to keep you and let you enjoy yourself for nothing?

--And who has told you that I shall not pay, replied Zulma, struck by the logic of this objection.

--Then you will pay immediately, said the worthy man, for I have been answerable for you, and it is on my recommendation that they have received a trollop like you into this respectable house. Madame Connard, he cried at the door, dear Madame Connard, will you bring up the bill, the little bill?

Madame Connard appeared at once:

--What, Mademoiselle is going away, is she not sleeping here?

--No, Mademoiselle is going to try her fortune elsewhere.

Madame Connard handed the bill to Monsieur Tibulle.

--No, no. It is Mademoiselle who is going to settle it; this young lady.

Zulma glanced at it and grew pale. She had hardly 10 francs, and the bill amounted to 19 francs, 75 centimes.

--And besides, it is so little because it is you. Everything is so dear here, and one does not know what to do for a living.

The poor girl remained silent; she looked at the bill without seeing it, for her eyes were full of tears.

--Well, said Monsieur Tibulle in a wheedling tone. Is there some little hindrance to your settling that?

--Madame, said Zulma, I have not enough money with me; no, I do not believe I have enough money ... but I can find it, I know where to find it ... and in an hour or two....

--Oh, oh, cried Madame Connard, in an hour or two, that is a very fine tale. But I know it, my girl, and people don't tell me that sort of thing.

--Well, dear Madame, I leave you, said Monsieur Tibulle, making her a knowing sign; I am going to see if my horse is put to, for I am setting off directly. Good-bye, little one, good-bye. No malice.

--Well, Mademoiselle, said Madame Connard, what do you decide?

--I have told you, Madame, I can give you five or six francs, and, although it is a downright robbery, I will find you the rest.

-What! a robbery? you little thief, you little hussy, you dare to call me a thief, you little street-walker. You are going to pay me immediately, or I will hand you over to the police.

--Very well, call the police, if you wish; I ask for nothing better; I will relate what has occurred.

She considered no doubt that she was wrong, for she cried:

--Look, that is not all, pay me immediately and take yourself off somewhere else. Has one ever seen anything like? You believed perhaps that I was going to lodge you and keep you for your pretty face? No, my dear. I have been done already in that way, and you don't catch me any more. There was a respectable gentleman, very polite, rich, and wearing a red ribbon, who was answerable for you, if you had been willing to make an arrangement with him; but instead of making an arrangement with him, you have a dispute; so much the worse for you, your family quarrels don't concern me. What I want is the money, that is all that I know; pay me my bill and get out, you little prost.i.tute.

--Come, dear Madame, I will try and arrange this little matter, said Monsieur Tibulle, appearing again; the little one is going to think better of it, I feel sure. Let me reason with her.

Madame Connard withdrew complacently.

--You see, you see in what a position you are placing yourself, said the excellent old gentleman, crossing his arms and looking at the young girl with all the dignity and sorrow of a father who has detected his child in some shameful act.

--Say rather into what an ambush you have driven me, you old scoundrel.

--Oh, oh, oh! no bad word, my girl. Bad words are no use. I am going away to pay the bill.

--A fig for you and your money.

--What! a fig for me and my money! In the first place you should never despise money, my girl; we can do nothing without money in this world. And then you are wrong to despise me, who only wish you well, my dear; yes, yes, wish you well.

--I tell you to leave me alone.

--Look now, don't be naughty, for I am going to settle the matter.

--I don't want you. Don't touch me....

--And how are you going to get yourself out of this sc.r.a.pe, if you will not let me get you out. You rebuff me again, though I only want to make you happy.

--I tell you not to come near me.

--Come, be pacified, you little angry cat; only a kiss and that shall be all.

He wanted to take hold of her waist, but she pushed him back. But he had gone too far to believe that he ought to beat a retreat, and he retained to the charge with renewed vigour. In the struggle she seized him by the neck, his waistcoat came undone, and a little square bit of painted canvas, of a dubious colour, remained in her hand. She threw it back in his face in disgust.

--My scapular! he cried. You throw my scapular about in this way. Stay, you are a little wretch, a street-walker, a hussy, a reprobate. You will perish miserably, and I leave you to your fate. Ah, you throw away my scapular!

When he had said this, the good gentleman piously recovered his scapular, b.u.t.toned up his overcoat, and retired full of dignity.

XCIII.

FROM THE DARK TO THE FAIR.

"Moderation should preside over pleasure: let us seek in new pleasures a refuge against the satiety of our souls."

KALVOS DE ZANTE (_Odes nouvelles_).

Zulma had remembered Marcel and had gone to him boldly.

--You have been crying then, my child? said the priest who noticed her red eyes.

The young girl in a few words informed him of her adventure.

--Who would ever have believed that? she said. Such a kind man! Such an obliging lady! The old gentleman said to me at Vic: "I shall not concern myself about you if you do not go to Confession, if you do not receive the Communion, if you do not say your prayers." Whom can one trust?

And that Madame Connard: "Eat what you like, and don't stand on ceremony.