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Updated: June 28, 2025
And that night, in the concierge's bureau, he was treated to many incidents, all alike. The Government took, but gave nothing. As well expect blood out of a stone. Instances were given, heartlessness piled on heartlessness, one sordid story on another. And as he listened there died in old Adelbert's soul his flaming love for his sovereign and his belief in him.
But she had, however, to accept the concierge's assistance. They were wringing between them, one at each end, a woolen skirt of a washed-out chestnut color, from which dribbled a yellowish water, when Madame Boche exclaimed: "Why, there's tall Virginie! What has she come here to wash, when all her wardrobe that isn't on her would go into a pocket handkerchief?" Gervaise jerked her head up.
He compared the sign with a card which he drew from his pocket, and knew that he had made no mistake. Entering the spacious lobby, he found it deserted. In the office a man was hastily making a package of some books and papers and did not respond or even look up when spoken to. At the concierge's desk a big, whiskered man sat staring straight ahead of him with a look of abject terror in his eyes.
I had the good fortune to meet him by the concierge's lodge, and we ascended the stairs to his rooms together. "I have come to ask you to do me a favour," I said, when we were seated in his sitting-room. "A thousand favours if you wish, cher ami," the old fellow replied. "Tell me how I can have the pleasure of serving you." "I want you to lend me one of your men for a few days," I said.
After this formality Saniel began his report: "We, the undersigned, Victor Saniel, doctor of medicine of the Paris Faculty, residing in Paris in the Rue Louis-le-Grand, after having taken an oath to fulfil in all honor and conscience the mission confided to us " All the time that he was writing he paid attention to everything that was said, and did not lose one word of the concierge's deposition.
Bertolle, "how could you suppose such atrocious treachery? There are crimes which honest hearts never even conceive." Henrietta continued, describing her sensations when she found herself for the first time in her life harassed by want, destitution, hunger. But, when she came to the disgusting ill-treatment she received at the hands of the concierge's wife, Daniel cried out, "Stop!"
All he had heard of the man, Papa Musard's slanderous-sounding complaints of him, the fat concierge's reports of his violence, had gathered towards this culmination.
"Are they talking from the concierge's lodge or the hotel? Burton ask at both if they know the address of a Miss Sharp who brings bandages to the hospital!" Of course by this time the connection had been cut off, and it took quite ten minutes to get on again, and by that time I could have yelled aloud with the feverish fret of it all, and the pain! No one knew anything of a "Mees Shearp."
When they were reached, he returned to the clerk's office, where the commissioner had installed himself, and was hearing the concierge's deposition. "And so," he said, "from five to seven o'clock no one asked for M. Caffie?" "No one.
"Tiens, but it is droll," said the concierge's friend, "a young girl, and all alone like that." "Oh, it is nothing," said the concierge; "the English are mad all! Their young girls run the streets at all hours, and the Devil guards them." Betty stood in the street. She could not go back to that circle of harpy faces, all eagerly tearing to pieces the details of poor old Madame Gautier's death.
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