I like Paris; and if I am not
particularly successful here, I don't suppose I should be more successful
anywhere else. I mean to stay here as long as I can hold out. I know a good
many people, and sometimes get a stroke of luck."
"But you are ruining your health. Austin, I fear, with--late hours,
and--and--parties."
"Who told you I keep late hours? The Parisians, as a rule, don't go to bed
at curfew. I don't suppose I'm worse than my neighbours. If I didn't go
out, Clary, and keep myself in the minds of my patrons, I might rot in a
garret. You don't know how soon a man is forgotten--even a man who has made
his mark more positively than I have; and then you see, my dear, I like
society, and have no taste for the domestic hearth, except for variety,
once in a way, like dining on a bouillon after a week's high feeding. Yes,
come what may, I shall stay in Paris--as long as I can."
There was something in the tone of the last words that alarmed Clarissa.
"You--you--are not in debt, are you, Austin?" she asked timidly.
"No--no--I'm not in debt; but I owe a good deal of money."
Clarissa looked puzzled.
"That is to say, I have no vulgar debts--butcher and baker, and so on; but
there are two or three things, involving some hundreds, which I shall have
to settle some of these days or else----"
"Or else what, Austin?"
"Cut Paris, Clary, that's all."
Clarissa turned pale.
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