Such a bother suppressed not only Césarine’s merriment, but her income. Her confinement was even more ill-timed. Her capital was depleting with no small rapidity owing primarily to her inability to engage in any part of pecuniary restraint. At one time the throes of a “delicate condition” might only have caused her an inconvenience. She might have announced a retreat to the country to take a cure, or possibly embarked on a Mediterranean excursion. But she could no more. It was not her health, but her wealth that impeded such ploys. She lived as if each day were her last, sending Marie-Therese upon regular trips to the pawnshop bartering with jewels of ever-decreasing value. The one piece she refused to part with was her ruby necklace, saying that she would be buried in it rather give it up. (Increasingly that became a possibility.) There were other worriments beyond her lavish lifestyle. Indeed, her funds were further taxed by bills from various doctors and apothecaries, the stack of which was accumulating in reverse proportion to her bijouterie.
