“Madame,” said the judge eagerly, “the caution exercised by the Court in such cases as these might have given you, in any other judge, a perhaps less indulgent critic than I am.--And do you suppose that M. d’Espard’s lawyer will show you any great consideration? Will he not be suspicious of motives which may be perfectly pure and disinterested? Your life will be at his mercy; he will inquire into it without qualifying his search by the respectful deference I have for you.” “I am much obliged to you, monsieur,” said the Marquise satirically. “Admitting for the moment that I owe thirty thousand or fifty thousand francs, in the first place, it would be a mere trifle to the d’Espards and the Blamont-Chauvrys. But if my husband is not in the possession of his mental faculties, would that prevent his being pronounced incapable?” “No, madame,” said Popinot. “Although you have questioned me with a sort of cunning which I should not have suspected in a judge, and under circumstances where straightforwardness would have answered your purpose,” she went on, “I will tell you without subterfuge that my position in the world, and the efforts I have to make to keep up my connection, are not in the least to my taste. I began my life by a long period of solitude; but my children’s interest appealed to me; I felt that I must fill their father’s place. By receiving my friends, by keeping up all this connection, by contracting these debts, I have secured their future welfare; I have prepared for them a brilliant career where they will find help and favor; and to have what has thus been acquired, many a man of business, lawyer or banker, would gladly pay all it has cost me.” “I appreciate your devoted conduct, madame,” replied Popinot. “It does you honor, and I blame you for nothing. A judge belongs to all: he must know and weigh every fact.” Madame d’Espard’s tact and practice in estimating men made her understand that M. Popinot was not to be influenced by any consideration. She had counted on an ambitious lawyer, she had found a man of conscience. She at once thought of finding other means for securing the success of her side. The servants brought in tea. “Have you any further explanations to give me, madame?” said Popinot, seeing these preparations. “Monsieur,” she replied haughtily, “do your business your own way; question M. d’Espard, and you will pity me, I am sure.” She raised her head, looking Popinot in the face with pride, mingled with impertinence; the worthy man bowed himself out respectfully. “A nice man is your uncle,” said Rastignac to Bianchon. “Is he really so dense? Does not he know what the Marquise d’Espard is, what her influence means, her unavowed power over people? The Keeper of the Seals will be with her to-morrow----” “My dear fellow, how can I help it?” said Bianchon. “Did not I warn you? He is not a man you can get over.” “No,” said Rastignac; “he is a man you must run over.”