were
mentioned in the papers, and they would enter it to see the face of a
man who had gained fifty millions in six weeks; they would enter it to
see and note who else came there; they would also enter it because he
had had the good taste and dexterity to summon them to admire a
Christian picture at the home of a child of Israel. He seemed to say to
them: "You see I have given five hundred thousand francs for the
religious masterpiece of Marcowitch, 'Jesus Walking on the Waters.' And
this masterpiece will always remain before my eyes in the house of the
Jew, Walter."

In society there had been a great deal of talk over these invitations,
which, after all, did not pledge one in any way. One could go there as
one went to see watercolors at Monsieur Petit's. The Walters owned a
masterpiece, and threw open their doors one evening so that everyone
could admire it. Nothing could be better. The _Vie Francaise_ for a
fortnight past had published every morning a note on this coming event
of the 30th December, and had striven to kindle public curiosity.

Du Roy was furious at the governor's triumph. He had thought himself
rich with the five hundred thousand francs extorted from his wife, and
now he held himself to be poor, fearfully poor, when comparing his
modest fortune with the shower of millions that had fallen around him,
without his being able to pick any of it up. His envious hatred waxed
daily. He was angry with everyone--with the Walters, whom he had not
been to see at their new home; with his wife, who, deceived by
Laroche-Mathieu, had persuaded him not to invest in the Morocco loan;
and, above all, with the minister who had tricked him, who had made use
of him, and who dined at his table twice a week. George was his agent,
his secretary, his mouthpiece, and when he was writing from his
dictation felt wild longings to strangle this triumphant foe. As a
minister, Laroche-Mathieu had shown modesty in mien, and in order to
retain his portfolio, did not let it be seen that he was gorged with
gold. But Du Roy felt the presence of this gold in the haughtier tone of
the parvenu barrister, in his more insolent gestures, his more daring
affirmation, his perfect self-confidence. Laroche-Mathieu now reigned in
the Du Roy household, having taken the place and the days of the Count
de Vaudrec, and spoke to the servants like a second master. George
tolerated him with a quiver running through him like a dog who wants to
bite, and da