"
"You did wrong," remarked M. Tabaret.
"Be it so; anyhow I read. At the end of ten lines, I was convinced that
these letters were from my father, whose name, Madame Gerdy, in spite of
my prayers, had always hidden from me. You can understand my emotion.
I carried off the packet, shut myself up in this room, and devoured the
correspondence from beginning to end."
"And you have been cruelly punished my poor boy!"
"It is true; but who in my position could have resisted? These letters
have given me great pain; but they afford the proof of what I just now
told you."
"You have at least preserved these letters?"
"I have them here, M. Tabaret," replied Noel, "and, that you may
understand the case in which I have requested your advice, I am going to
read them to you."
The advocate opened one of the drawers of his bureau, pressed an
invisible spring, and from a hidden receptacle constructed in the
thick upper shelf, he drew out a bundle of letters. "You understand, my
friend," he resumed, "that I will spare you all insignificant details,
which, however, add their own weight to the rest. I am only going to
deal with the more important facts, treating directly of the affair.
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