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In itself the death of Caffie was a small thing; it became atrocious if it led to such an ending. He did not wish this to happen, and he would do everything not only to prevent the condemnation, but to shorten the imprisonment.
"I promise you." "Thank you very much." "If it could be to-morrow, it would suit me. I am not rich, you know, but I have always paid the gas-bill for your experiments." With the paper in his pocket, Saniel returned to Caffie, who was just going out, and to whom he gave it. "I will see about it this, evening," said the man of business. "Just now I am going to dinner. Do not worry.
"You know," she said at last, "how I saw, accidentally, from this place" she pointed to one of the windows "the face of the assassin of my unfortunate tenant, Monsieur Caffie." "Mademoiselle Cormier has told me," he replied in a tone of ordinary conversation.
Then interrupting him: "Apropos of justice, you did not speak of Caffie the morning of your departure." "I was so preoccupied I had no time to think of Caffie." "Is it not curious, the coincidence of his death with the condemnation that we pronounced against him? Does it not prove exactly the justice of things?" "If you choose."
"No; that is to say, yes. There was one who asked me if Monsieur Caffie was at home; but I know him well; that is why I answered No." "And who is he?" "One of Monsieur Caffies old clerks." "His name?" "Monsieur Florentin Monsieur Florentin Cormier." Saniel's hand was arrested at this name, but he did not raise his head. "At what hour did he come?" asked the commissioner.
"It is not as doctor that I am here, but as client." "This is not the hour when I receive clients." "But you are at home." "That is a fact!" And Caffie, concluding to open the door, asked Saniel to enter, and then closed it. "Come into my office."
In order not to complicate this impression with another that humiliated him, he got rid of the packages of bank bills taken from Caffie, by sending them "as restitution" to the director of public charities. But this had no appreciable effect.
Here is a doctor!" cried several voices. The crowd parted, and Saniel passed under the porte-cochere, where the concierge, half fainting, was seated on a chair, surrounded by all the maids of the house and several neighbors, to whom she related the news. By using his elbows he was able to approach her. "Who has said Monsieur Caffie is dead?" he asked with authority.
In itself the death of Caffie was a small thing; it became atrocious if it led to such an ending. He did not wish this to happen, and he would do everything not only to prevent the condemnation, but to shorten the imprisonment.
Undoubtedly you think that, pushed by my distress, and seeing that I shall be lost forever, I shall decide to accept this marriage to save myself." "Can you suppose such a thing, my dear sir?" Caffie cried. But Saniel stopped him.... "The calculation is too natural for you not to have made it. Well, I must tell you that it is false. Never will I lend myself to such a bargain.
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