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Peyrade rattled out the most French of all French oaths with such a strong Southern accent that all the guests looked up in amazement. Peyrade, discovering his blunder, acknowledged his disguise by saying to Contenson in good French: "Find me a coach I'm off." Every one rose. "Why, who are you?" said Lucien. "Ja who?" said the Baron.
Or they mean something else than the words signify in themselves, and the common custom of speech, and the circumstances of persons and business-matters; and thus they abuse words which were instituted for the cherishing of society." Contenson
Peyrade, who had some resemblance to Musson the famous juggler, could disguise himself so effectually that once Contenson did not recognize him. Followed by Contenson dressed as a mulatto, Peyrade examined Esther and her servants with an eye which, seeming heedless, took everything in.
Judging only from his dress, the observer would have said to himself, "That is a scoundrel; he gambles, he drinks, he is full of vices; but he does not get drunk, he does not cheat, he is neither a thief nor a murderer." And Contenson remained inscrutable till the word spy suggested itself. This man had followed as many unrecognized trades as there are recognized ones.
He thought he could put Contenson in Peyrade's place; but Contenson was at that time employed by Corentin for his own benefit. Peyrade felt the blow all the more keenly because, being greedy and a libertine, he had found himself, with regard to women, in the position of a pastry-cook who loves sweetmeats.
"Louchard, you shall gife ein hundert francs to Contenson out of the change of the tousand-franc note." "De lady is a beauty," said the cashier to the Baron, as they left the Rue Taitbout, "but she is costing you ver' dear, Monsieur le Baron." "Keep my segret," said the Baron, who had said the same to Contenson and Louchard.
They watched the neighborhood of the Rue des Moineaux and the Rue Taitbout where he lived, as a nabob, with Madame du Val-Noble. During the last three days of the term granted by Asie to reinstate Lucien on his old footing in the Hotel de Grandlieu, Contenson never left the veteran of the old general police office.
Paccard knew the hound by his eyes, as I did when he dressed up as a market-porter. Paccard drove the girl home, taking a round so as not to lose sight of the wretch. Contenson is at the Hotel Mirabeau; but he exchanged so many signs of intelligence with the Englishman, that Paccard says the other cannot possibly be an Englishman." "We have a gadfly behind us," said Carlos.
He ought not to have sent away Georges before he had known the unknown!" "Then Georges saw the woman?" said Corentin. "Yes," replied Contenson. "Well," cried Peyrade, "and what is she like?" "Oh," said Contenson, "he said but one word 'A sun of loveliness." "We are being tricked by some rascals who beat us at the game," said Peyrade.
Recognizing Asie as a leader in the piece, Contenson hoped to find out the author through her; but she slipped through his fingers again and again, hiding like an eel in the mud of Paris; and when he found her again as the cook in Esther's establishment, it seemed to him inexplicable that the half-caste woman should have had a finger in the pie.
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