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Updated: May 23, 2025
He found there articles of furniture with which he had been familiar for twenty years, the portrait of his former employer; and his dear Madame Chorche, bending over some little piece of needle work at his side, seemed to him even younger and more lovable among all those old souvenirs.
"Risler, my friend, I beg you to wait a little longer." "Why, Madame Chorche, there's not a minute to lose. Oh! I suspect that you fear I may give way to an outbreak of anger. Have no fear let him have no fear. You know what I told you, that the honor of the house of Fromont is to be assured before my own. I have endangered it by my fault.
A box-opener, speaking to Sidonie, referred to Georges as "your husband," and the little woman beamed with delight. "Your husband!" That simple phrase was enough to upset her and set in motion a multitude of evil currents in the depths of her heart. As they passed through the corridors and the foyer, she watched Risler and Madame "Chorche" walking in front of them.
Sometimes, however, when they were talking together in the office, with no one by, Risler would suddenly start convulsively, as a vision of the crime passed before his eyes. Then he would feel a mad longing to spring upon the villain, seize him by the throat, strangle him without mercy; but the thought of Madame "Chorche" was always there to restrain him.
On opening his eyes, he saw on either side old Sigismond and Madame Georges, whom the cashier had summoned in his distress. As soon as Risler could speak, he said to her in a choking voice: "Is this true, Madame Chorche is this true that he just told me?" She had not the courage to deceive him, so she turned her eyes away. "So," continued the poor fellow, "so the house is ruined, and I "
Next to Sidonie and Frantz, the person whom Risler loved best in the world was Madame Georges Fromont, whom he called "Madame Chorche," the wife of his partner and the daughter of the late Fromont, his former employer and his god. He had placed her beside him, and in his manner of speaking to her one could read affection and deference.
Risler left them confronting each other, and went up to Fromont Jeune, whom he was greatly surprised to find there. "What, Chorche, you here? I supposed you were at Savigny." "Yes, to be sure, but I came I thought you stayed at Asnieres Sundays. I wanted to speak to you on a matter of business." Thereupon, entangling himself in his words, he began to talk hurriedly of an important order.
The other, when he heard the door, turned joyfully toward his partner. "Chorche, Chorche, my dear fellow I have got it, our press. There are still a few little things to think out. But no matter! I am sure now of my invention: you will see you will see! Ah! the Prochassons can experiment all they choose. With the Risler Press we will crush all rivalry." "Bravo, my comrade!" replied Fromont Jeune.
And I must make up my mind to be a nobody in my own house, to allow myself to be humiliated, trampled under foot." "Come, come, little one " Poor Risler tries to interpose, to say a word in favor of his dear Madame "Chorche." But he has no tact.
"Carriage, my dear Chorche? I have a carriage? What for?" "I assure you, my dear Risler, that it is quite essential for you. Our business, our relations, are extending every day; the coupe is no longer enough for us. Besides, it doesn't look well to see one of the partners always in his carriage and the other on foot.
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