"How do you know that?" he asked, nervously.
"It is for me to question. But I know it: that is enough. Your
occupation and position in life?"
"I am a gentleman, living on my means."
"It is false." An angry flush rose to Gascoigne's face as the judge
thus gave him the lie. "It is false--you are a professional gambler--a
Greek--a sharper, with no ostensible means!"
"Pardon me, monsieur; you are quite misinformed. I could prove to you--"
"It would be useless; the police have long known and watched you."
"Such espionage is below contempt," cried Gascoigne, indignantly.
"Silence! Do not dare to question the conduct of the authorities. It
is the visit of persons of your stamp to Paris that renders such
precautions necessary."
"If you believe all you hear from your low agents, with their lying,
scandalous reports--"
"Be careful, prisoner; your demeanour will get you into trouble. Our
information about you is accurate and trustworthy. Judge for
yourself."
Gascoigne looked incredulous.
"Listen; you arrived in Paris three months ago, accompanied by a young
demoiselle whom you had decoyed from her home."
"She was my wife."
"Yes; you married her after your arrival here. The official records of
the 21st arrondisement prove that--married her without her parents'
consent.
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