--You have to thank
me for some enjoyment, criminal indeed; now I want--oh yes, I shall
have your esteem."
Crevel was weeping bitter tears.
"You great pumpkin!" she exclaimed, with an infernal peal of laughter.
"That is how your pious women go about it to drag from you a plum of
two hundred thousand francs. And you, who talk of the Marechal de
Richelieu, the prototype of Lovelace, you could be taken in by such a
stale trick as that! I could get hundreds of thousands of francs out
of you any day, if I chose, you old ninny!--Keep your money! If you
have more than you know what to do with, it is mine. If you give two
sous to that 'respectable' woman, who is pious forsooth, because she
is fifty-six years of age, we shall never meet again, and you may take
her for your mistress! You could come back to me next day bruised all
over from her bony caresses and sodden with her tears, and sick of her
little barmaid's caps and her whimpering, which must turn her favors
into showers--"
"In point of fact," said Crevel, "two hundred thousand francs is a
round sum of money."
"They have fine appetites, have the goody sort! By the poker! they
sell their sermons dearer than we sell the rarest and realest thing on
earth--pleasure.--And they can spin a yarn! There, I know them. I have
seen plenty in my mother's house. They think everything is allowable
for the Church and for--Really, my dear love, you ought to be ashamed
of yourself--for you are not so open-handed! You have not given me two
hundred thousand francs all told!"
"Oh yes," said Crevel, "your little house will cost as much as that.
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