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Updated: June 26, 2025
Thereupon Madame Deberle, irritated by Lucien's continued wailing, requested her sister to pick him up and coax him into silence. Nothing loth, Pauline ran, cast herself down beside the child, and for a moment rolled on the ground with him.
As soon as she was gone, Madame Deberle returned to the charge. "How can you, a gentleman, show yourself in public with that actress Florence? She is at least forty. She is ugly enough to frighten one, and all the gentlemen in the stalls thee and thou her on first nights." "Have you finished?" called out Pauline, who was strolling sulkily under the trees. "I'm not amusing myself here, you know."
"Mamma, mamma!" she cried; "she made me say an Ave; she says it will bring you good luck." The three then turned into the Rue Vineuse, while Mother Fetu crept down the steps of the Passage des Eaux, busy completing her rosary. The month slipped away. Two or three more services were attended by Madame Deberle. One Sunday, the last one, Henri once more ventured to wait for Helene and Jeanne.
This must be the pretty little girl who was so ill a few nights ago. Sit down for a moment, I beg of you." Helene was forced to accept the invitation, while Jeanne timidly perched herself on the edge of another chair. Madame Deberle again sank down on her little sofa, exclaiming with a pretty laugh, "Yes, this is my day. I receive every Saturday, you see, and Pierre then announces all comers.
Pauline, meantime, had begun playfully running after Lucien behind the chairs and couches, left in confusion by the visitors. On the threshold Madame Deberle held out her hand to Helene with a frank and friendly movement. "You will allow me," said she. "My husband spoke to me about you, and I felt drawn to you.
Jeanne lowered her face, wiped two big tears of passionate anger and grief from her eyes, and fell back in her chair as though she would fain hear and see no more; while Madame Deberle, filled with ecstasy by the idea of such unexpected pleasure, began chattering noisily. Oh! how kind her husband was! She kissed him for his self-sacrifice.
Look at my chemise it's torn in half; and this bed is so dirty. But that doesn't matter. God will requite you, my good lady!" Next day, on Helene's entering Mother Fetu's room, she found Dr. Deberle already there. Seated on the chair, he was writing out a prescription, while the old woman rattled on with whimpering volubility. "Oh, sir, it now feels like lead in my side yes, just like lead!
Monsieur Rambaud had now become quite intimate with the Deberle family. "Well," said the doctor, "and how are you going to dress, Jeanne?" He got no further, for Malignon burst out: "I've got it! I've got it! Lucien must be a marquis of the time of Louis XV." He waved his cane with a triumphant air; but, as no one of the company hailed his idea with enthusiasm, he appeared astonished.
On the lawn and along the walks the grass and gravel glittered amidst the haze that seemed to ooze from the ground. No flower was in blossom; only the happy flush which the sunshine cast upon the soil revealed the approach of spring. "At this time of year it is rather dull," resumed Madame Deberle.
Helene had remained standing, engaged in conversation with Madame Deberle. As the latter directed her steps towards the drawing-room, her companion prepared to follow, when she felt a gentle touch. Behind her was the doctor, smiling; he was ever near her. "Are you not going to take anything?" he asked.
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