and scowl;
then he laugh, with a toss of the finger, and sit down. All at once he
put his hand on his sword, and gnash his teeth.

"Then she speak down to him, her voice ver' quiet. 'Argand,' she say,
'you are more a man drunk than sober. Argand,' she go on, 'years ago,
they said you were a brave man; you fight well, you do good work for the
King, your name goes with a sweet sound to Versailles. You had only your
sword and my poor fortune and me then--that is all; but you were a man.
You had ambition, so had I. What can a woman do? You had your sword,
your country, the King's service. I had beauty; I wanted power--ah yes,
power, that was the thing! But I was young and a fool; you were older.
You talked fine things then, but you had a base heart, so much baser
than mine.... I might have been a good woman. I was a fool, and weak,
and vain, but you were base--so base--coward and betrayer, you!'

"At that m'sieu' start up and snatch at his sword, and speak out between
his teeth, 'By God, I will kill you to-night!' She smile cold and hard,
and say, 'No, no, you will not; it is too late for killing; that should
have been done before. You sold your right to kill long ago, Argand
Cournal. You have been close friends with the man who gave me power,
and you gold.' Then she get fierce. 'Who gave you gold before he gave
me power, traitor?' Like that she speak. 'Do you never think of what you
have lost?' Then she break out in a laugh. 'Pah! Listen: if there must
be killing, why not be the great Roman--drunk!'

"Then she laugh so hard a laugh, and turn away, and go quick by me and
not see me. She step into the dark, and he sit down in the chair, and
look straight in front of him. I do not stir, and after a minute she
come back sof', and peep down, her face all differen'. 'Argand! Argand!'
she say ver' tender and low, 'if--if--if'--like that. But just then he
see the broken watch on the floor, and he stoop, with a laugh, and pick
up the pieces; then he get a candle and look on the floor everywhere
for the jewels, and he pick them up, and put them away one by one in his
purse like a miser. He keep on looking, and once the fire of the candle
burn his beard, and he swear, and she stare and stare at him. He sit
down at the table, and look at the jewels and laugh to himself. Then she
draw herself up, and shake, and put her hands to her eyes, and 'C'est
fini! c'est fini!' she whisper, and that is all.

"When she is gone, after a little t