The advocate bowed to the old gentleman, who in his turn rose and
retired politely to the end of the room.
"Sir," said Noel, in an undertone to the magistrate, "you will find all
the letters in this portfolio. I must ask permission to leave you at
once, as Madame Gerdy's condition grows hourly more alarming."
Noel had raised his voice a little, in pronouncing these last words; and
the count heard them. He started, and made a great effort to restrain
the question which leaped from his heart to his lips.
"You must however give me a moment, my dear sir," replied the
magistrate.
M. Daburon then quitted his chair, and, taking the advocate by the hand,
led him to the count.
"M. de Commarin," said he, "I have the honour of presenting to you M.
Noel Gerdy."
M. de Commarin was probably expecting some scene of this kind: for not a
muscle of his face moved: he remained perfectly calm. Noel, on his side,
was like a man who had received a blow on the head; he staggered, and
was obliged to seek support from the back of a chair.
Then these two, father and son, stood face to face, apparently deep in
thought, but in reality examining one another with mutual distrust, each
striving to gather something of the other's thoughts.
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