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"
And
who
is
there
?
"
he
said
,
gently
.
"
The
advocate
,
to
get
you
to
sign
your
appeal
.
"
"
I
shall
not
appeal
.
"
"
What
!
you
will
not
appeal
,
"
she
said
,
getting
up
,
with
her
eyes
sparkling
with
rage
.
"
And
why
,
if
you
please
?
"
"
Because
I
feel
at
the
present
time
that
I
have
the
courage
to
die
without
giving
people
occasion
to
laugh
too
much
at
my
expense
.
And
who
will
guarantee
that
I
shall
be
in
so
sound
a
frame
of
mind
in
two
months
’
time
,
after
living
for
a
long
time
in
this
damp
cell
?
I
foresee
interviews
with
the
priests
,
with
my
father
.
I
can
imagine
nothing
more
unpleasant
.
Let
’
s
die
.
"
This
unexpected
opposition
awakened
all
the
haughtiness
of
Mathilde
’
s
character
.
She
had
not
managed
to
see
the
abbé
de
Frilair
before
the
time
when
visitors
were
admitted
to
the
cells
in
the
Besançon
prison
.
Her
fury
vented
itself
on
Julien
.
She
adored
him
,
and
nevertheless
she
exhibited
for
a
good
quarter
of
an
hour
in
her
invective
against
his
,
Julien
’
s
,
character
,
and
her
regret
at
having
ever
loved
him
,
the
same
haughty
soul
which
had
formerly
overwhelmed
him
with
such
cutting
insults
in
the
library
of
the
Hôtel
de
la
Mole
.
"
In
justice
to
the
glory
of
your
stock
,
Heaven
should
have
had
you
born
a
man
,
"
he
said
to
her
.
"
But
as
for
myself
,
"
he
thought
,
"
I
should
be
very
foolish
to
go
on
living
for
two
more
months
in
this
disgusting
place
,
to
serve
as
a
butt
for
all
the
infamous
humiliations
which
the
patrician
party
can
devise
,
and
having
the
outburst
of
this
mad
woman
for
my
only
consolation
.
.
.
.
Well
,
the
morning
after
to
-
morrow
I
shall
fight
a
duel
with
a
man
known
for
his
self
-
possession
and
his
remarkable
skill
.
.
.
his
very
remarkable
skill
,
"
said
the
Mephistophelian
part
of
him
;
"
he
never
makes
a
miss
.
Well
,
so
be
it
—
good
.
"
(
Mathilde
continued
to
wax
eloquent
)
.
"
No
,
not
for
a
minute
,
"
he
said
to
himself
,
"
I
shall
not
appeal
.
"
Having
made
this
resolution
,
he
fell
into
meditation
.
.
.
.
