All the world would know that Marie Melmotte had attempted to run off with him, and that at the last moment he had failed her. What lie could he invent to cover his disgrace? And his clothes! All his things were at the club;--or he thought that they were, not being quite certain whether he had not made some attempt to carry them off to the Railway Station. He had heard of suicide. If ever it could be well that a man should cut his own throat, surely the time had come for him now. But as this idea presented itself to him he simply gathered the clothes around him and tried to sleep. The death of Cato would hardly have for him persuasive charms.

All the world would know that Marie Melmotte had attempted to run off with him, and that he had failed her. What lie could he invent to cover his disgrace? If ever a man ought to cut his own throat, surely the time had come for him now. But he simply gathered the bedclothes around him and tried to sleep.
