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"Ah, there you are coming at last! I give up twenty of my worst patients to see you, and you keep me waiting forever. I was sure you would come. What happened last night at Count Claudieuse's house?" "Then you know" "I know nothing. I have seen the results; but I do not know the cause.
I do not like people to perform so violently at my door; and I was getting up to let the man know my mind, when Count Claudieuse's servant rushed in, pushing my own servant unceremoniously aside, and cried out to me to come instantly, as his master had just died." "Great God!" "That is what I said, because, although I knew the count was very ill, I did not think he was so near death."
"Must I tell you again and again," he said, "that every thing is on fire, barns, outhouses, haystacks, the houses, the old castle, and every thing? If you wait much longer, you won't find one stone upon another in Valpinson." The effect produced by this name was prodigious. "What?" asked the mayor in a half-stifled voice, "Valpinson is on fire?" "Yes." "At Count Claudieuse's?" "Of course." "Fool!
"You may rest assured, reverend father," said M. Daubigeon, "that Count Claudieuse's last wishes shall be attended to. The name of the countess shall not appear. There will be no need for it. The secret of her wrongs shall be religiously kept by those who know it." It was four o'clock now.
He goes through Sauveterre like a race-horse; and, when he reaches Mautrec Street, he begins to ring the bell at a large gate." "At Count Claudieuse's house!" "I know now what house it was; but I did not know then. Well, he rings. A servant comes and opens. He speaks to her, and immediately she invites him in, and that so eagerly, that she forgets to close the gate again."
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