Danglars was a coward, but did not wish to appear so; he was piqued at the tone which Morcerf had just assumed.
“I am not without a good reason for my conduct,” replied the banker.
“What do you mean to say?”
“I mean to say that I have a good reason, but that it is difficult to explain.”
“You must be aware, at all events, that it is impossible for me to understand motives before they are explained to me; but one thing at least is clear, which is, that you decline allying yourself with my family.”
“No, sir,” said Danglars; “I merely suspend my decision, that is all.”
“And do you really flatter yourself that I shall yield to all your caprices, and quietly and humbly await the time of again being received into your good graces?”
“Then, count, if you will not wait, we must look upon these projects as if they had never been entertained.”
The count bit his lips till the blood almost started, to prevent the ebullition of anger which his proud and irritable temper scarcely allowed him to restrain; understanding, however, that in the present state of things the laugh would decidedly be against him, he turned from the door, towards which he had been directing his steps, and again confronted the banker. A cloud settled on his brow, evincing decided anxiety and uneasiness, instead of the expression of offended pride which had lately reigned there.
“My dear Danglars,” said Morcerf, “we have been acquainted for many years, and consequently we ought to make some allowance for each other’s failings. You owe me an explanation, and really it is but fair that I should know what circumstance has occurred to deprive my son of your favor.”