"
"Of course not, but you said in joke the other day you would take it
with you on one of your trips, and put it out to nurse. I wish to
heaven, Leon, you'd do it in reality. It is no use my sending it to
anyone near here; Mathilde would go after it the next day. My only
chance is to send it somewhere where it will be safe, of course, and
well looked after, but where Mathilde can't go after it, and as she
would go to the end of the world for it if she knew where it was, it
must go where she can't find it; she must not know where it is. No one,
indeed, need know but you, for as far as I am concerned the less I know
about it at present the better; it has spoilt all my happiness. Mathilde
is so wrapped up in that child she does not care a fig for me now; in
fact, I rarely see her. If you can only put that infant safely out of
our way for a year or two, I'll never forget it, Leon."
"Are you in real sober earnest, Arnaut?" asked Leon, who, in his
astonishment, had risen to his feet, and was puffing away vigorously at
his cigar.
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