He had certainly been a good friend to them, one of those good friends of whom we think the less because we feel sure of them.
Now, reminiscences came readily to Pierre's mind.

Having seen him anxious from time to time, and suspecting his student's impecuniousness, Marechal had of his own accord offered and lent him money, a few hundred francs perhaps, forgotten by both, and never repaid.

Then this man must always have been fond of him, always have taken an interest in him, since he thought of his needs.

Well then--well then--why leave his whole fortune to Jean?
No, he had never shown more marked affection for the younger than for the elder, had never been more interested in one than in the other, or seemed to care more tenderly for this one or that one.
Well then--well then--he must have had some strong secret reason for leaving everything to Jean--everything--and nothing to Pierre.
The more he thought, the more he recalled the past few years, the more extraordinary, the more incredible was it that he should have made such a difference between them.

And an agonizing pang of unspeakable anguish piercing his bosom made his heart beat like a fluttering rag.