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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Widow Lerouge"

And I dare even to breath a
suspicion against this noble soul? I ought to be whipped! Old fool!
isn't the lesson you have already received sufficiently terrible? Will
you never be more cautious?"
Thus he reasoned, trying to dismiss his disquieting thoughts, and
restraining his habits of investigation; but in his heart a tormenting
voice constantly whispered, "Suppose it is Noel."
He at length reached the Rue St. Lazare. Before the door of his house
stood a magnificent horse harnessed to an elegant blue brougham. At the
sight of these he stopped.
"A handsome animal!" he said to himself; "my tenants receive some swell
people."
They apparently received visitors of an opposite class also, for, at
that moment, he saw M. Clergeot came out, worthy M. Clergeot, whose
presence in a house betrayed ruin just as surely as the presence of the
undertakers announce a death. The old detective, who knew everybody, was
well acquainted with the worthy banker. He had even done business with
him once, when collecting books. He stopped him and said: "Halloa! you
old crocodile, you have clients, then, in my house?"
"So it seems," replied Clergeot dryly, for he does not like being
treated with such familiarity.


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