His thoughts were entirely engrossed by the joy, the pride of his triumph. So they were conquered at last, those proud upstarts of Fromonts! So they needed old Gardinois at last, did they? Vanity, his dominating passion, overflowed in his whole manner, do what he would. When she had finished, he took the floor in his turn, began naturally enough with "I was sure of it--I always said so--I knew we should see what it would all come to"--and continued in the same vulgar, insulting tone, ending with the declaration that, in view of his principles, which were well known in the family, he would not lend a sou. Then Claire spoke of her child, of her husband's name, which was also her father's, and which would be dishonored by the failure. The old man was as cold, as implacable as ever, and took advantage of her humiliation to humiliate her still more; for he belonged to the race of worthy rustics who, when their enemy is down, never leave him without leaving on his face the marks of the nails in their sabots. "All I can say to you, little one, is that Savigny is open to you. Let your husband come here. I happen to need a secretary. Very well, Georges can do my writing for twelve hundred francs a year and board for the whole family. Offer him that from me, and come." She rose indignantly. She had come as his child and he had received her as a beggar. They had not reached that point yet, thank God! "Do you think so?" queried M. Gardinois, with a savage light in his eye. Claire shuddered and walked toward the door without replying. The old man detained her with a gesture. "Take care! you don't know what you're refusing. It is in your interest, you understand, that I suggest bringing your husband here. You don't know the life he is leading up yonder. Of course you don't know it, or you'd never come and ask me for money to go where yours has gone. Ah! I know all about your man's affairs. I have my police at Paris, yes, and at Asnieres, as well as at Savigny. I know what the fellow does with his days and his nights; and I don't choose that my crowns shall go to the places where he goes. They're not clean enough for money honestly earned." Claire's eyes opened wide in amazement and horror, for she felt that a terrible drama had entered her life at that moment through the little low door of denunciation. The old man continued with a sneer: "That little Sidonie has fine, sharp teeth." "Sidonie!" "Faith, yes, to be sure. I have told you the name. At all events, you'd have found it out some day or other. In fact, it's an astonishing thing that, since the time--But you women are so vain! The idea that a man can deceive you is the last idea to come into your head. Well, yes, Sidonie's the one who has got it all out of him--with her husband's consent, by the way."