people, in their daily life were like squirrels in a cage, and because
they moved, they thought they were progressing. In them scepticism had
killed belief; religion, family, country, were, as they phrased it, all
humbug. They had only one aim, one passion--to enjoy themselves. Their
watchword was "pleasure." All those who did not perish of consumption
would die in lunatic asylums.

What was she doing in the midst of this rottenness? She, the woman of
business? Could she hope to regenerate these poor wretches by her
example? No! She could not teach them to be good, and they excelled in
teaching others harm. She must leave this gilded vice, taking with her
those she loved, and leave the idle and incompetent to consume and
destroy themselves.

She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away from
the contagion. In the meantime she must question Jeanne. A shadow
appeared on the threshold: it was hers. In the darkness of the gallery
Serge crept behind her without being seen. He had been watching Jeanne,
and seeing her go away alone, had followed her. In the angle of the
large bay-window, opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating
heart. Madame Desvarennes's voice was heard in the silence of the
drawing-room; he listened.

"Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be
delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here."

"You are leaving so soon?"

"Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter's account, and on yours. My
daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn! Why did you