“But,” she sought to say, very much put out by this unexpected answer, “where did you get this money from?  You must have inconvenienced yourself.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the Prince, quietly, “that only concerns myself.  Be good enough to see whether the amount is there,” added he with a smile.  “I reckon so badly that it is possible I may have made a mistake to your disadvantage.”

Madame Desvarennes pushed away the hand which presented the bank-notes, and shook her head gravely: 

“Keep this money,” she said; “unfortunately you will need it.  You have entered on a very dangerous path, which grieves me very much.  I would willingly give ten times the amount, at once, to be sure that you would never touch another card.”

“Madame!” said the Prince with impatience.

“Oh!  I know what I am risking by speaking thus.  It weighs so heavily on my heart.  I must give vent to it or I shall choke.  You are spending money like a man who does not know what it is to earn it.  And if you continue—­”

Madame Desvarennes raised her eyes and looked at the Prince.  She saw him so pale with suppressed rage that she dared not say another word.  She read deadly hatred in the young man’s look.  Frightened at what she had just been saying, she stepped back, and went quickly toward the door.

“Take this money, Madame,” said Serge, in a trembling voice.  “Take it, or all is over between us forever.”

And, seizing the notes, he put them by force in Madame Desvarennes’s hands.  Then tearing up with rage the paper that had been the cause of this painful scene, he threw the pieces in the fireplace.

Deeply affected, Madame Desvarennes descended the stairs which she had a few minutes before gone up with so much resolution.  She had a presentiment that an irreparable rupture had just taken place between herself and her son-in-law.  She had ruffled Panine’s pride.  She felt that he would never forgive her.  She went to her room sad and thoughtful.  Life was becoming gloomy for this poor woman.  Her confidence in herself had disappeared.  She hesitated now, and was irresolute when she had to take a decision.  She no longer went straight to the point by the shortest road.  Her sonorous voice was softened.  She was no longer the same willing energetic woman who feared no obstacles.  She had known defeat.

The attitude of her daughter had changed toward her.  It seemed as if Micheline wished to absolve herself of all complicity with Madame Desvarennes.  She kept away to prove to her husband that if her mother had displeased him in any way, she had nothing to do with it.  This behavior grieved her mother, who felt that Serge was working secretly to turn Micheline against her.  And the mad passion of the young wife for him whom she recognized as her master did not allow the mother to doubt which side she would take if ever she had to choose between husband and mother.