Lazare. Nine o'clock
struck as the concierge opened the door for him. He went at once up to
the fourth floor to inquire after the health of his former friend, her
whom he used to call the excellent, the worthy Madame Gerdy.
It was Noel who let him in, Noel, who had doubtless been thinking of
the past, for he looked as sad as though the dying woman was really his
mother.
In consequence of this unexpected circumstance, old Tabaret could not
avoid going in for a few minutes, though he would much have preferred
not doing so. He knew very well, that, being with the advocate, he would
be unavoidably led to speak of the Lerouge case; and how could he do
this, knowing, as he did, the particulars much better than his young
friend himself, without betraying his secret? A single imprudent word
might reveal the part he was playing in this sad drama. It was, above
all others, from his dear Noel, now Viscount de Commarin, that he wished
entirely to conceal his connection with the police.
But, on the other hand, he thirsted to know what had passed between the
advocate and the count. His ignorance on this single point aroused his
curiosity. However, as he could not withdraw he resolved to keep close
watch upon his language and remain constantly on his guard.
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