"I understand," Ogle rejoined; and he added, though not with absolute conviction: "Of course not." Then it seemed that he divined something;—the one diversion of Mlle. Daurel and her sister upon the "Duumvir" had been to play cards against Hyacinthe and Mme. Momoro. "Your mother has told me something of your difficulties with Mademoiselle Daurel, Hyacinthe. She was angry with you much as the Englishman was, wasn't she?"
"Much," Hyacinthe said bitterly. "What she lives for, it is bridge and religion—and to make my mother unhappy! Me, I don't care, if that old woman would let my mother alone. My mother must never speak to anybody; she must be ready to run for something every moment like a lady's-maid; she must promise to become a religious. That is a terrible old woman! She makes you presents of a gold cigarette case or a fur coat, and you must give her your life! But never in money two sous! If you had money, you see, she thinks you might escape. What you have in money is the little you win at bridge at fifty centimes the point, and even at that she becomes insane, if you win. Well, what is there to do? She is a poor player, and you can't force her to win just to be obliging; because you can't afford it.
