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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Isn't it touching, the solicitude we each have that the other shall enjoy herself?" sneered Miss Bordereau. "If you think me brilliant today you don't know what you are talking about; you have never seen an agreeable woman. Don't try to pay me a compliment; I have been spoiled," she went on. "My door is shut, but you may sometimes knock." With this she dismissed me, and I left the room.
There was something touching to me in all that, and my imagination frequently went back to the period. If Miss Bordereau carried it there of course Jeffrey Aspern at other times had done so a great deal more. It was a much more important fact, if one were looking at his genius critically, that he had lived in the days before the general transfusion.
"I daresay they wouldn't give you much for them; still, you could make a bargain." "Oh, I have never made a bargain, as you ought to know. My gardener disposes of them and I ask no questions." "I would ask a few, I can promise you!" said Miss Bordereau; and it was the first time I had heard her laugh.
For some days I looked out for it and then, when I had given it up, I wasted a good deal of time in wondering what her reason had been for neglecting so indispensable and familiar a form. If Miss Bordereau suspected me of ulterior aims she would suspect me less if I should be businesslike, and yet I consented not to be so.
Hitherto I always thought Esterhazy a very shrewd and clever man, but after reading his statements in the "Times" and the "Chronicle" I no longer know what to think. Still, one point is gained; he admits having written the bordereau, and others hereafter will tell us the exact circumstances under which he did so.
And Miss Tita went away, toward the staircase, with the sense evidently that she had said too much. I let her go I wished not to frighten her and I contented myself with remarking that Miss Bordereau would not have locked up such a glorious possession as that a thing a person would be proud of and hang up in a prominent place on the parlor wall. Therefore of course she had not any portrait.
And he strode back to his own office and shut the door with a slam that disturbed the serene spectacles of Mr. Otto Bartels, who was sedulously studying a long row of figures on a reinsurance bordereau. Mr. Bartels was Secretary of the Guardian, and his office adjoined that of the Vice-president. Mr.
At this the old woman went on: "Well, you brought it on yourself!" And then in a different tone, "She is a very nice girl." I assented cordially to this proposition, and she expressed the hope that I did so not merely to be obliging, but that I really liked her. Meanwhile I wondered still more what Miss Bordereau was coming to.
"What do YOU know about it, my dear?" the old woman demanded. "You needn't mind. I have fixed my price." "And what may that be?" "A thousand pounds." "Oh Lord!" cried poor Miss Tita irrepressibly. "Is that what she talks to you about?" said Miss Bordereau. "Imagine your aunt's wanting to know!"
When the first rough and ready facsimiles of the famous Bordereau and of the authentic letters of Captain Dreyfus were published side by side, it struck me with an immediate amazement to conceive that any person who had given even the most casual attention to this study of handwriting could possibly have supposed that the various documents had emanated from the same hand.
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