Linders from his bed, in a sudden
spasm of rage, "it is that villain, that _miserable!_ Yes, yes,
come in; Madelon, light the candles quickly; where are the
cards? Ah--I will have my revenge yet!"
The door burst open, and Legros entered, just as Madelon had
succeeded in lighting the candles. He stopped short in his
uproarious entrance, suddenly sobered by the appearance of M.
Linders, as he lay propped up with pillows, his white face and
bandaged head, and eyes gleaming with fever and rage.
"Papa is very ill," says Madelon. "Monsieur, do not stay to-
night, I beg of you!"
"What are you saying, Madelon?" cried her father; "I forbid
you to say that again; bring me the cards. Legros, I am ready
for you; ah, there is then one more chance in life!"
"You are not fit to play, Monsieur," said the young man,
stepping back; "I will come again to-morrow."
"To-morrow!" answered M. Linders, with a sort of laugh, "have
you then so many to-morrows that you can talk of them
recklessly? Well, then, I will tell you--I have not--not one;
but I have to-night, and that I will not lose.
Pages:
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221