'
"'Oh, Pauline!' I cried, as I pressed her hand, 'how I wish that I
were rich!'
"'Bah! why should you?' she said petulantly. Her hand shook in mine
with the throbbing of her pulse; she snatched it away, and looked at
both of mine.
"'You will marry a rich wife,' she said, 'but she will give you a
great deal of trouble. Ah, _Dieu_! she will be your death,--I am sure of
it.'
"In her exclamation there was something like belief in her mother's
absurd superstitions.
"'You are very credulous, Pauline!'
"'The woman whom you will love is going to kill you--there is no
doubt of it,' she said, looking at me with alarm.
"She took up her brush again and dipped it in the color; her great
agitation was evident; she looked at me no longer. I was ready to give
credence just then to superstitious fancies; no man is utterly
wretched so long as he is superstitious; a belief of that kind is
often in reality a hope.
"I found that those two magnificent five-franc pieces were lying, in
fact, upon my table when I reached my room. During the first confused
thoughts of early slumber, I tried to audit my accounts so as to
explain this unhoped-for windfall; but I lost myself in useless
calculations, and slept.
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