If she has
loved you too much, you are the man of all others that should forgive
her. Come, what do you say?"
This was too much for Camille; that Raynal should come and demand of him
to marry his own wife, for so he understood the proposal. He stared at
Raynal in silence ever so long, and even when he spoke it was only to
mutter, "Are you out of your senses, or am I?"
At this it cost Raynal a considerable effort to restrain his wrath.
However, he showed himself worthy of the office he had undertaken. He
contained himself, and submitted to argue the matter. "Why, colonel,"
said he, "is it such a misfortune to marry poor Rose? She is young,
she is lovely, she has many good qualities, and she would have walked
straight to the end of her days but for you."
Now here was another surprise for Dujardin, another mystification.
"Rose de Beaurepaire?" said he, putting his hand to his head, as if to
see whether his reason was still there.
"Yes, Rose de Beaurepaire--Rose Dujardin that ought to be, and that is
to be, if you please."
"One word, monsieur: is it of Rose we have been talking all this time?"
Raynal nearly lost his temper at this question, and the cold,
contemptuous tone with which it was put; but he gulped down his ire.
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