The Woman of Mystery by Georges Ohnet — Read

IN his study, soberly furnished, Elias Lichtenbach, seated in front of a large Louis Fourteenth bureau, was speaking in low tones, as though afraid of being heard, to a priest, lolling at ease in an enormous armchair. By the light of the setting sun, the sharp, bony face of the banker, with his _keen_ eyes and thin, well-shaven lips, could be faintly distinguished. He was no longer the stout healthy-looking Elias of former days. The cares of life had withered the flower of youth on his cheeks, and wrinkled the once careless brow. The jaws were still pronounced, but hard and thin, like those of a powerful and ferocious man-eater. The hairy hands, long and grasping as they lay there on the desk, revealed unusual love of wealth. A black skull-cap covered Lichtenbach's bald forehead. His visitor was a young and elegant ecclesiastic of graceful and intelligent mien. He spoke with a southern accent, which gave his voice a kind of hilarity in sound.

"It will be a very profitable undertaking. The property we have in view has no value whatever at present, nothing but waste land and marshes. The purchase will be effected in your name, and when we have signed an emphyteutic lease with you, we shall at once commence building. We want an advance of three hundred thousand francs."