ceive your
answer in person. The result of a refusal on your part to receive me
will be attended by calamitous consequences to yourself.--Accept,
_monsieur_, the expression of my highest consideration,

"PAUL AUGUSTE DESTOURNELLE."

For the moment Richard saw red, mad with rage at the insolence of the
writer. And then came the question, was it true, this which the letter
implied? Had Helen, indeed, lied to him? And, notwithstanding its
insane vanity, did this precious epistle give a more veracious account
of her relation to the young poet than that which she had herself
volunteered? He tried to put the thought from him. Who was he--to-day
of all days--to be nice about the conduct of another? Who was he to sit
in judgment? So he turned to his correspondence again, taking another
letter, at random, from the pile. And then, looking at the
superscription, he turned somewhat sick.

"MON CHER,"--wrote M. de Vallorbes,--"My steward informs me that he has
just received your draft for a quarter's rent of the villa. I thank you
a thousand times for your admirable punctuality. Decidedly you are of
those with whom it is a consolation to do business. Need I assure you
that the advent of this money is far from inopportune, since a grateful
country, while showering distinctions upon me with one hand, with the
other picks my pocket. I find it not a little expensive this famous
military service! But then, ever since I can remember, I have found all
that afforded me the slightest, active pleasure equally that! And this
sport of war, I promise you, is the most excellent sport in which I
have as yet participated. It satisfies the primitive instincts more
thoroughly than even your English fox-hunting. A _battue_ of
_Communards_ is obviously superior to a _battue_ of pheasants. To the
dignity of killing one's fellow-men is added the satisfaction of
ridding oneself of vermin. It becomes a matter of sanitation and
self-respect. And this, indirectly, recalls to me, that report declares
my wife to be with you at Naples. _Mon cher je vous en fais cadeau_.
With you, at least, I know that my honour is safe. You may even instil
into her mind some faint conception of the rudiments of morality. To be
frank with you, she needs that. A couple of months ago she did me the
honour to elope--temporarily, of course--with M. Paul Destournelle. You
may have glanced, one day, at his crapulous verses. I suppose honour
demanded that I should pursue the gui