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The Money Master, Complete

Chapter 9 "MOI-JE SUIS PHILOSOPHE"

Word Count: 3338    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

have wept to see. And the feeling was as palpable as the seeing; as in the early spring the new life which is being born in the year, produces a febrile kind of sorrow in the mind. But

t; and the mind and body yearn for solace. It is a dangerous time, even

he smell of the fallow field, the wind with the touch of the coming rains-these had given to a growing discontent with her monotono

d desired, that men should say, "What a splendid creature!" It was in her veins, an undefined philosophy of life; and she had ever measured the love of Jean Jacques by his caresses. She had no other vital standard. This she could measure,

or a Spanish woman she had matured late; and that was because, in her youth, she had been active and athletic, unlike most

ces of Spain. The artificial heat of the big stoves in the rooms with the low ceilings only irritated her, and she felt herself growing more ample from lassitude of the flesh. This particular autumn it see

she had been surprised into the candour of her feelings by the appearance of one who had the boldness of a brigand, the health of a Hercules, and the intelligence of a primitive Jesuit. He had not hesitated; he had yielded hims

e assurance and guarantee that it was all right, and receive his cheque from Jean Jacques. He had come early, because he

which she did not hear. He knew that she did not hear or see. "My beauty!" he said aloud. "My splendid girl, my charmer of Cadiz! My

e thought of those he meant to take; and he laughed greedily as he lowered himself into t

, for he was a good craftsman, and

A

, a hoarse cry of horror which was not

A

when he heard a noise behind him. He turned and looked back. There stood Jean Jacques with his hand on the lever. The no

n exclaimed again in helpless f

cques meant to do. He knew that the lever locking the mill-wheel had been opened,

an Jacques, a gesture that bade him wait. Time was his only friend in this-one minute, two minutes, three minutes, anyt

out after his gest

dark malicious, half-insane eyes. Even in his fear and ghastly anxiety, the subconscious mind of George Masson wa

own cool and determined, and his brain was at work again with an activity and a clearness it had never known. He had gained one minute of time, he might be able to gain more. In any case, no one could save him except himself. There wa

from Jean Jacques' lips with a snarl. "I am going t

y one man to another in the parish of St. Saviour's. To be calle

will not squeal even if I am a pig. One can only die once. And once is enough.... No, don't-not yet! Give me a minute till I tell you something; then you can open the gates. You will have a long time to live-yes, yes

"Well, get on with your praying, but don't talk. You are go

ed an argument. Jean Jacques was a logician, a philosopher! That point made about the difference between a murder and an ex

over, pig of an adulte

pher"-Jean Jacques jerked a haughty assent-"as a philosopher you will want to know how and why it is. Carmen will never tell you-a woman never tells the truth about such things, because she does not know how. She does not

ed on the lever as though he would wrench th

ean Jacques. You are going to kill me, but listen so that you will kno

subsided, and a surly sort of vanity crept into his face-"and you married a girl who cared more for what you did than what you thought-that is sure, for I know women. I am not married, and I have had muc

aimed Jean Jacques

usband of one. I came down here to Quebec from the Far West to get away from consequences. It was expensive. I had to sacrifice. Well, here I am in trouble again-my last trouble, and with the wife of a man that I respect and admire, not enough to

uld not then meddle with the home of Jean Jacques Bar

It is so. And if I live

ting him from following the bent of his nature. He was the born lover. If he had been as high as the Czar, or

let me get on. M

this. You keep on saying 'Wait a little,' but you

e saw that Jean Jacques' hands were not so tightly clenched on the lever now; and time was everythin

the province knows is great. At first you were almost always thinking of her and what a fine woman she was, and because everyone admired her, you played the peacock, too. I am not the only peacock. You

is wife. She is a wonder. She is at home at the Manor with the cows and the geese. Jean Jacques travels alone through the parish to Quebec, to Three Rivers, to Tadousac, to the great exhibition at Montreal, but mad

Jacques fiercely, but he was fascinated too by the

ee the world? No. Did you bring her presents? No. Did you say, 'Come along, we will make a little journey to see the world?' No. Do you think that a woman can sit and d

s being hypnotized by a mind of subtle strength

down and worship me. I am your husband.' Did you ever say, 'Heavens, there you are, the woman of all the world, the rising and the setting sun, the star that shines, the garde

hat, he could stand anything. There was a savage start

r in spite of the sudden savagery on Jean Jacques' part, he fe

f you give her a chance. If you kill me, I will have my revenge in death, for it is the end of all things for you. You lose your wife for ever. You need not do so. She would have gone with me, not because of me, b

lever in his agitation, yet he made no

out so loud that she can hear me, and she will understand. She will go mad, and give you over to the law. And then-and then! Did you ever think what will become of your child, of your Zoe, if y

and dishonoured all her life; and himself out of it all, unable to help her, and bringing irremediable trouble on her! As a chemic

his hands to his eyes, then shook his head as though to free it of some hateful burden. An insta

-for ever,

bridge of the flume, where the lever was. He swayed from side to side. Then

hilosophe!" he

stumbled on, he said it aga

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