“You have altered me so completely, my dear Esther, that no one knows me; I paid ten thousand francs for a picture by Joseph Bridau because you told me that he was clever and unappreciated. I give every beggar I meet five francs in your name. Well, and what does the poor man ask, who regards himself as your debtor when you do him the honor of accepting anything he can give you? He asks only for a hope--and what a hope, good God! Is it not rather the certainty of never having anything from you but what my passion may seize? The fire in my heart will abet your cruel deceptions. You find me ready to submit to every condition you can impose on my happiness, on my few pleasures; but promise me at least that on the day when you take possession of your house you will accept the heart and service of him who, for the rest of his days, must sign himself your slave, “FREDERIC DE NUCINGEN.” “Faugh! how he bores me--this money bag!” cried Esther, a courtesan once more. She took a small sheet of notepaper and wrote all over it, as close as it could go, Scribe’s famous phrase, which has become a proverb, “Prenez mon ours.” A quarter of an hour later, Esther, overcome by remorse, wrote the following letter:-- “MONSIEUR LE BARON,-- “Pay no heed to the note you have just received from me; I had relapsed into the folly of my youth. Forgive, monsieur, a poor girl who ought to be your slave. I never more keenly felt the degradation of my position than on the day when I was handed over to you. You have paid; I owe myself to you. There is nothing more sacred than a debt of dishonor. I have no right to compound it by throwing myself into the Seine. “A debt can always be discharged in that dreadful coin which is good only to the debtor; you will find me yours to command. I will pay off in one night all the sums for which that fatal hour has been mortgaged; and I am sure that such an hour with me is worth millions--all the more because it will be the only one, the last. I shall then have paid the debt, and may get away from life. A good woman has a chance of restoration after a fall; but we, the like of us, fall too low. “My determination is so fixed that I beg you will keep this letter in evidence of the cause of death of her who remains, for one day, your servant, “ESTHER.” Having sent this letter, Esther felt a pang of regret. Ten minutes after she wrote a third note, as follows:-- “Forgive me, dear Baron--it is I once more. I did not mean either to make game of you or to wound you; I only want you to reflect on this simple argument: If we were to continue in the position towards each other of father and daughter, your pleasure would be small, but it would be enduring. If you insist on the terms of the bargain, you will live to mourn for me.