Mysteries of Paris, V3

Excerpt: ...find out where you had sent this unfortunate child. Ten years ago only, a letter from you informed me that our child was dead. Alas! would to God that she had then been dead; I should not have known the incurable grief which henceforth will imbitter my life. Now, said Sarah, in a feeble voice, I am no more astonished at the aversion with which I have inspired you, since you have read this letter. I feel it, I shall not survive this last blow. Ah, well! yes; pride and ambition have ruined me! Under the appearance of passion, I concealed a frozen heart. Not knowing what good reason you had to despise and hate me, my foolish hopes were renewed. Since we were both free again, I again believed in this prediction which promised me a crown; and when chance discovered my daughter, I seemed to see in this unhoped-for fortune a providential design! Yes; I went so far as to think that your aversion for me would yield to your love for your child; and that you would give me your hand in order to restore her to the rank which was her due. Well! let your execrable ambition be then satisfied and punished! Yes, notwithstanding the horror you inspired me with; yes, from attachment-what do I say! from respect for the frightful misfortunes of my child, I should have, although decided to live afterward separated from you-I should have, by a marriage which would legitimatize my child, rendered her position as dazzling, as lofty as it had been miserable! I was not deceived, then! Woe! it is too late! Oh! I know it; it is not for the death of your child you weep; it is the loss of that rank which you have pursued with untiring pertinacity! Well! may these infamous regrets be your last punishment! The last; for I shall not survive! But, before you die, you shall know what has been the existence of your child since you abandoned her. Poor child! very miserable, perhaps! Do you recollect, said Rudolph, with terrible calmness, that night when you and...