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While they talked they left behind them the noisy streets of the centre of Paris. They walked along the quays, skirted the Jardin des Plantes, plunged into Faubourg Saint-Marceau. Risler followed where the other led. Sigismond's words did him so much good!
"You lawyers sometimes are very clear-headed, though you are accused of false practices in pleading for one side or the other." Colonel Chabert, whose address was written at the bottom of the first receipt he had given the notary, was lodging in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, Rue du Petit-Banquier, with an old quartermaster of the Imperial Guard, now a cowkeeper, named Vergniaud.
"Listen, lieutenant; is it monseigneur also who told me the story of the novice of the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, whom you so nearly carried off over the convent walls?
"And you the Saint-Marceau quarter," she continued, addressing Monsieur Nicolas. "Hunt through the faubourg Saint-Germain and see if you can find what we want;" this to the Abbe de Veze, who went away immediately. "And you, my dear Alain," she added, smiling at the latter, "make an examination. There, those important matters are all settled," she said, returning to Godefroid.
And a few steps off is the cemetery of Mont-Parnasse, where, hour after hour, the sorry funerals of the faubourg Saint-Marceau wend their way.
Many of the men destined to a brilliant part in the history of modern sculpture were trained in the atelier of Jouffroy. Falguière and Saint-Marceau had but just left that studio when the young American entered it, and Mercié was his fellow student there.
This man had the air of a person who is seeking lodgings, and he seemed to halt, by preference, at the most modest houses on that dilapidated border of the faubourg Saint-Marceau. We shall see further on that this man had, in fact, hired a chamber in that isolated quarter.
While they talked they left behind them the noisy streets of the centre of Paris. They walked along the quays, skirted the Jardin des Plantes, plunged into Faubourg Saint-Marceau. Risler followed where the other led. Sigismond's words did him so much good!
And a few steps off is the cemetery of Mont-Parnasse, where, hour after hour, the sorry funerals of the faubourg Saint-Marceau wend their way.
"An old man who lives at the rate of two louis a month in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, where I, a poor student, lodge likewise. He is a truly unfortunate creature, everybody laughs at him we all call him 'Father Goriot." "Why, child that you are," cried the Vicomtesse, "Mme. de Restaud was a Mlle. Goriot!"
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