THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
"Absurd!" exclaimed my father uncertainly.
"You of all people! You cannot sell the paper!"
He sighed with apparent relief.
And why not?" he asked.
"Because," said Mademoiselle, "you are one of those who signed it."
"Mademoiselle forgets," said my father, bowing, "that her name and mine were written at the bottom of the list. It is a precaution I always take with such little matters. The first thing I did, Mademoiselle, was to cut both off with my razor. Brutus, light the stairs for the lady."
Without another glance at either of us, she walked slowly away, her chin tilted, her slender fingers clenched. I knew that anger, fear, and disappointment were walking there beside her, and yet she left the room as proudly as she had entered it.
I stood listening to her step on the stairs.
"Ah," said my father, "there is a woman for you."
The last few minutes seemed to have wearied him, for he sank back heavily in his chair. For a minute we were silent, and suddenly a speech of his ran through my memory.
[76]
