'
'Oh!' from Gollipeck, with a cynical smile, 'I see; let us say--
acquaintances.'
'Won't make any difference,' replied Vandeloup, airily; 'I turned my
acquaintances into friends long ago, and then borrowed money off
them; result: my social circle is nil. Friends,' went on M.
Vandeloup, reflectively, 'are excellent as friends, but damnable as
bankers.'
Gollipeck chuckled, and rubbed his hands, for this cynicism pleased
him. Suddenly his eye caught the book which the young man had
returned.
'You read this?' he said, laying his hand on it; 'good, eh?'
'Very good, indeed,' returned M. Vandeloup, smoothly; 'so kind of
you to have lent it to me--all those cases quoted were known to me.'
'The case of Adele Blondet, for instance, eh?' asked the old man
sharply.
'Yes, I was present at the trial,' replied Vandeloup, quietly; 'the
prisoner Octave Braulard was convicted, condemned to death,
reprieved, and sent to New Caledonia.'
'Where he now is,' said Gollipeck, quickly, looking at him.
'I presume so,' replied Vandeloup, lazily. 'After the trial I never
bothered my head about him.'
'He poisoned his mistress, Adele Blondet,' said the doctor.
'Yes,' answered Vandeloup, leaning forward and looking at Gollipeck,
'he found she was in love with an Englishman, and poisoned her--you
will find it all in the book.'
'It does not mention the Englishman,' said the doctor, thoughtfully
tapping the table with his hand.
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