He has wanted it for some time--I think because he admires women
who are before the public and applauded by the world; also, perhaps,
because I have refused him, and he is one who wants most what he finds
hardest to get. He is not a scrupulous person, but he has some power and
a good deal of influence, because he is very highly connected, and when
people have 'axes to grind' he helps to grind them. He has suspected for
some time that I cared for M. du Laurier, and for that he has hated
Raoul. I have fancied--that he hired detectives to spy upon me; and my
instinct as well as common sense told me that he would let no chance
slip to separate me from the man I love. He would work mischief between
us--or he would try to ruin Raoul, or crush me--anything to keep us
apart. When I saw the Commissary of Police I was hardly surprised, and
though I didn't know what pretext had brought him, I said to myself
'That is the work of--'"
"Perhaps better not mention the name, Mademoiselle."
"I didn't mean to. I leave that to your--imagination. 'This is the work
of the man whose love is more cruel than hate,' I thought. While I
wondered what possible use the police could make of my letters, I was
shaking with terror lest they should come upon them and they should
somehow fall into--a certain man's hands.
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