" Suddenly his hands clenched. "I will beat him. He shall
not bring me to the dust. I gave him life, and he shall not take my life
from me. He's at the beginning; I'm going towards the end. I wronged his
mother--yes, I wronged him too! I wronged them both, but he does not know
he's wronged. He'll live his own life; he has lived it--"
There came a tap at the door. Presently it opened and a servant came in.
He had in his hand a half-dozen telegrams.
"All about the man that's going to fight you, I expect, m'sieu'," said
the servant as he handed the telegrams.
Barode Barouche did not reply, but nodded a little scornfully.
"A woman has called," continued the servant. "She wants to see you,
m'sieu'. It's very important, she says."
Barouche shook his head in negation. "No, Gaspard."
"It ain't one of the usual kind, I think, m'sieu'," protested Gaspard.
"It's about the election. It's got something to do with that--" he
pointed to the newspaper propped against the teapot.
"It's about that, is it? Well, what about that?" He eyed the servant as
though to see whether the woman had given any information.
"I don't know. She didn't tell me. She's got a mind of her own. She's
even handsome, and she's well-dressed.
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