I thought to find some letters
of Dr. Braierly. I think that man was trying to get your property, my dear
Maud, and if I had found something I would tell you all about. But it was
very great _sottise_, and you were very right to denounce me to Monsieur.
Je n'ai point de rancune contre vous. No, no, none at all. On the contrary,
I shall be your _gardienne tutelaire_--wat you call?--guardian angel--ah,
yes, that is it. You think I speak _par derision_; not at all. No, my dear
cheaile, I do not speak _par moquerie_, unless perhaps the very least
degree in the world.'
And with these words Madame laughed unpleasantly, showing the black caverns
at the side of her mouth, and with a cold, steady malignity in her gaze.
'Yes,' I said; 'I know what you mean, Madame--you _hate_ me.'
'Oh! wat great ogly word! I am shock! _vous me faites honte_. Poor Madame,
she never hate any one; she loves all her friends, and her enemies she
leaves to Heaven; while I am, as you see, more gay, more _joyeuse_ than
ever, they have not been 'appy--no, they have not been fortunate these
others. Wen I return, I find always some of my enemy they 'av die, and some
they have put themselves into embarrassment, or there has arrived to them
some misfortune;' and Madame shrugged and laughed a little scornfully.
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