I want to
speak to you alone." Newman looked at the doctor, and the doctor looked
at the cure, who looked back at him; and then the doctor and the cure,
together, gave a shrug. "Alone--for five minutes," Valentin repeated.
"Please leave us."
The cure took up his burden again and led the way out, followed by
his companions. Newman closed the door behind them and came back to
Valentin's bedside. Bellegarde had watched all this intently.
"It's very bad, it's very bad," he said, after Newman had seated himself
close to him. "The more I think of it the worse it is."
"Oh, don't think of it," said Newman.
But Valentin went on, without heeding him. "Even if they should come
round again, the shame--the baseness--is there."
"Oh, they won't come round!" said Newman.
"Well, you can make them."
"Make them?"
"I can tell you something--a great secret--an immense secret. You can
use it against them--frighten them, force them."
"A secret!" Newman repeated. The idea of letting Valentin, on his
death-bed, confide him an "immense secret" shocked him, for the
moment, and made him draw back. It seemed an illicit way of arriving at
information, and even had a vague analogy with listening at a key-hole.
Then, suddenly, the thought of "forcing" Madame de Bellegarde and her
son became attractive, and Newman bent his head closer to Valentin's
lips.
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