“But the document returning the fifty-thousand rouble mortgage—has the General got it? If so, possess yourself of it, and send it to De Griers.”
“No, no; the General has not got it.”
“Just as I expected! Well, what is the General going to do?” Then an idea suddenly occurred to me. “What about the Grandmother?” I asked.
Polina looked at me with impatience and bewilderment.
“What makes you speak of her ?” was her irritable inquiry. “I cannot go and live with her. Nor,” she added hotly, “will I go down upon my knees to anyone .”
“Why should you?” I cried. “Yet to think that you should have loved De Griers! The villain, the villain! But I will kill him in a duel. Where is he now?”
“In Frankfort, where he will be staying for the next three days.”
“Well, bid me do so, and I will go to him by the first train tomorrow,” I exclaimed with enthusiasm.
She smiled.
“If you were to do that,” she said, “he would merely tell you to be so good as first to return him the fifty thousand francs. What, then, would be the use of having a quarrel with him? You talk sheer nonsense.”
I ground my teeth.
“The question,” I went on, “is how to raise the fifty thousand francs. We cannot expect to find them lying about on the floor. Listen. What of Mr. Astley?” Even as I spoke a new and strange idea formed itself in my brain.
Her eyes flashed fire.