He began to walk up and down again, and then, halting once more, said:
"Explain, then, how he came to leave the whole of his fortune to you."
She did so in a careless and disinterested tone, saying: "It is quite
simple. As you said just now, he had only ourselves for friends, or
rather myself, for he has known me from a child. My mother was a
companion at the house of some relatives of his. He was always coming
here, and as he had no natural heirs he thought of me. That there was a
little love for me in the matter is possible. But where is the woman who
has not been loved thus? Why should not such secret, hidden affection
have placed my name at the tip of his pen when he thought of expressing
his last wishes? He brought me flowers every Monday. You were not at all
astonished at that, and yet he did not bring you any, did he? Now he has
given me his fortune for the same reason, and because he had no one to
offer it to. It would have been, on the contrary, very surprising for
him to have left it to you. Why should he have done so? What were you to
him?"
She spoke so naturally and quietly that George hesitated. He said,
however: "All the same, we cannot accept this inheritance under such
conditions. The effect would be deplorable. All the world would believe
it; all the world would gossip about it, and laugh at me. My fellow
journalists are already only too disposed to feel jealous of me and to
attack me. I should have, before anyone, a care for my honor and my
reputation. It is impossible for me to allow my wife to accept a legacy
of this kind from a man whom public report has already assigned to her
as a lover. Forestier might perhaps have tolerated it, but not me."
She murmured, mildly: "Well, dear, do not let us accept it. It will be a
million the less in our pockets, that is all."
He was still walking up and down, and began to think aloud, speaking for
his wife's benefit without addressing himself directly to her: "Yes, a
million, so much the worse. He did not understand, in making his will,
what a fault in tact, what a breach of propriety he was committing. He
did not see in what a false, a ridiculous position he would place me.
Everything is a matter of detail in this life. He should have left me
half; that would have settled everything."
He sat down, crossed his legs, and began to twist the end of his
moustache, as he did in moments of boredom, uneasiness, and difficult
reflection. Madeleine took up some embroidery at which she worked from
time to time, and said, while selecting her wools: "I have only to hold
my tongue. It is for you to reflect."
He was a long time without replying, and then said, hesitatingly: "The
world will never understand that Vaudrec made you his sole heiress, and
that I allowed it. To receive his fortune in that way would be an
acknowledgment on your part of a guilty connection, and on mine of a
shameful complaisance. Do you understand now how our acceptance of it
would be interpreted? It would be necessary to find a side issue, some
clever way of palliating matters. To let it go abroad, for instance,
that he had divided the money between us, leaving half to the husband
and half to the wife."
She observed: "I do not see how that can be done, since the will is
plain."
"Oh, it is very simple. You could leave me half the inheritance by a
deed of gift. We have no children, so it is feasible. In that way the
mouth of public malevolence would be closed."
She replied, somewhat impatiently: "I do not see any the more how the
mouth of public malevolence is to be closed, since the will is there,
signed by Vaudrec?"
He said, angrily: "Have we any need to show it and to paste it up on all
the walls? You are really stupid. We will say that the Count de Vaudrec
left his fortune between us. That is all. But you cannot accept this
legacy without my authorization. I will only give it on condition of a
division, which will hinder me from becoming a laughing stock."
She looked at him again with a penetrating glance, and said: "As you
like. I am agreeable."
Then he rose, and began to walk up and down again. He seemed to be
hesitating anew, and now avoided his wife's penetrating glance. He was
saying: "No, certainly not. Perhaps it would be better to give it up
altogether. That is more worthy, more correct, more honorable. And yet
by this plan nothing could be imagined against us--absolutely nothing.
The most unscrupulous people could only admit things as they were." He
paused in front of Madeleine. "Well, then, if you like, darling, I will
go back alone to Maitre Lamaneur to explain matters to him and consult
him. I will tell him of my scruples, and add that we have arrived at the
notion of a division to prevent gossip. From the moment that I accept
half this inheritance, it is plain that no one has the right to smile.
It is equal to saying aloud: 'My wife accepts because I accept--I, her
husband, the best judge of what she may do without compromising herself.
Otherwise a scandal would have arisen.'"