simply grown tired of me, or she finds my poverty more than she can bear."
"I suppose, young man, you have been clearing the matrimonial atmosphere, and this is the serio-comic fashion in which it pleases you to look at it."
M. Gerbert placed himself in Mr. Kennard's largest armchair.
"What sort was this fellow who found it necessary to advertise the fact that he found his life an insupportable burden?"
"The fellow was a woman."
"I might have guessed it. The curses have come home to roost. She has, doubtless, made life an insupportable burden to so many men that now it is her own turn."
"Keep it up, Gerbert, you'll be a cynic yet before you're done."
"This woman, was she old or young?"
"A girl, sir, a mere child, not out of her teens—eh, Nash? A little slip of a thing you could blow away with a breath. With the face of a saint, sir, or an angel, eyes which were the eyes of innocence, if ever yet I saw them. And yet, by George, sir, she offered for ten thousand francs to kill the President—kill him, sir! And she spoke as calmly as if she were telling you her size in gloves. Upon my soul, I believe she'd do it too!"
"Ten thousand francs—was that the sum she asked?"
"Ten thousand francs, sir. I might have understood it if she had asked ten million, but for a pittance such as that!"
"I perceive. You have yourself your price then.
