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Updated: June 28, 2025
But they were not long left to themselves; in their second week, the concierge's little girl late one afternoon brought Janet's card up to Adelaide. As Janet entered, Del regretted having yielded to impulse and admitted her.
Then came the bewildering episode in the apartment: the pistol-shot, the flight of the man, the astonished concierge to whom the beautiful American would offer no explanations. He claimed to be an emissary with important instructions from the Opera. There was nothing unusual in this; messengers came at all hours, and seldom the same one twice; so the concierge's suspicions had not been aroused.
"Yes," he replied; "I was playing peacock, and allowed myself to be surprised." The lady laughed, and continued: "Your concierge's lodge was vacant, and as I know you are always alone at this hour I came up without being announced." He looked at her. "Heavens, how beautiful you are! What chic!" "Yes, I have a new frock. Do you think it pretty?" "Charming, and perfectly harmonious.
She could not, however, stand waiting for hours at the door of the official baker and the official butcher, one of a long line of frozen women, for the daily rations of bread and tri- weekly rations of meat. She employed the concierge's boy, at two sous an hour, to do this.
This entranceway was paved like the street, and down the center flowed a streamlet of pink-stained water. "Come in," said Coupeau, "no one will eat you." Gervaise wanted to wait for him in the street. However, she could not resist going through the porch as far as the concierge's room on the right. And there, on the threshold, she raised her eyes.
"Good-night," murmured Armand mechanically. He took the candle and escorted his visitor back to the door. He waited on the landing, taper in hand, while Chauvelin descended the narrow, winding stairs. There was a light in the concierge's lodge. No doubt the woman had struck it when the nocturnal visitor had first demanded admittance.
All was cold and cheerless in the rooms. There were no servants. Mrs. Leare sat down; the old nurse bemoaned her rheumatism and her aching bones; Hermione, with the assistance of the concierge's wife, lighted a fire, made some tea and waited on her mother. For several days afterward she was very ill.
My aunt decided to take refuge in the concierge's lodge, in order to come to an explanation. My poor nurse told her about all that had taken place, her husband's death, and her second marriage. I do not remember what she said to excuse herself. I clung to my aunt, who was deliciously perfumed, and I would not let go of her.
After a time, however, while sitting with the CONCIERGE'S wife, she heard such frightful whispers from men with white badges, who were admitted one by one by the porter, and all led silently to a small lower room, that she resolved on seeking out the Baron's servant, and sending him to warn his master, while she would take up her station at her lady's door.
The conversation continued between roadway and window. Madame Boche was concierge of the building where the "Two-Headed Calf" was on the ground floor. Gervaise had waited for Lantier more than once in the concierge's lodge, so as not to be alone at table with all the men who ate at the restaurant. Madame Boche was going to a tailor who was late in mending an overcoat for her husband.
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