'"
But in this, as on a former occasion, she let her vengeance carry her
too far. She had aroused the prudent suspicions of Victorin. He had
resolved to be rid of this Damocles' sword so constantly flourished
over them by Lisbeth, and of the female demon to whom his mother and
the family owed so many woes. The Prince de Wissembourg, knowing all
about Madame Marneffe's conduct, approved of the young lawyer's secret
project; he had promised him, as a President of the Council can
promise, the secret assistance of the police, to enlighten Crevel and
rescue a fine fortune from the clutches of the diabolical courtesan,
whom he could not forgive either for causing the death of Marshal
Hulot or for the Baron's utter ruin.
The words spoken by Lisbeth, "He begs of his former mistresses,"
haunted the Baroness all night. Like sick men given over by the
physicians, who have recourse to quacks, like men who have fallen into
the lowest Dantesque circle of despair, or drowning creatures who
mistake a floating stick for a hawser, she ended by believing in the
baseness of which the mere idea had horrified her; and it occurred to
her that she might apply for help to one of those terrible women.
Next morning, without consulting her children or saying a word to
anybody, she went to see Mademoiselle Josepha Mirah, prima donna of
the Royal Academy of Music, to find or to lose the hope that had
gleamed before her like a will-o'-the-wisp.
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