THE AMERICAN
for it. That we quite feel. But it won't otherwise incommode us."
"Well," said Newman after reflexion, "I don't know that I want to do anything worse than make you regret your connexion with me. Only don't be sure you know yet," he added, "how very much you may regret it."
M. de Bellegarde stood a moment looking on the ground, as if ransacking his brain to see what else he could do to save his father's reputation. Then, with a small cold sigh, he seemed to signify that he regretfully surrendered the late Marquis to the penalty of his turpitude. He gave a scant shrug, took his neat umbrella from the servant in the vestibule and, with his gentlemanly walk, passed out. Newman stood listening till he heard the door close; then for some minutes he moved to and fro with his hands in his pockets and a sound like the low hum of a jig proceeding from the back of his mouth.
