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What a problem was hers! twelve thousand francs a year to defray the costs of a household consisting of father, mother, two children, a chambermaid and cook, living on the second floor of a house in the rue Duphot, in an apartment costing two thousand francs a year. That is the position of half the husbands in Paris, under penalty of being thought monsters.
As he threw a glance around him, asking from things the inspiration that his brain did not furnish, he caught sight of the letter he had just received, and it suggested an idea. Duphot was at Monaco to play. Why should he not go also, and play?
"What! you here?" both the lover and his mistress exclaimed. Saniel related why he was at Monaco, and what he had done since his arrival. "With my money! Ah! She is very well," Duphot cried. "And you will play no more?" the woman asked. "I have all I want." "Then you will play for me." He wished to decline, but they drew him to the roulette table, and each put a louis in his hand. "Play." "How?"
He dined once a fortnight in the rue Duphot; but always at a family dinner, invited by Rabourdin himself; Madame asked him to evening parties only when she wanted partners. At that moment Rabourdin was scolding poor Sebastien, the only human being who was in the secret of his immense labors.
"I I cannot positively state the amount, sir," I said, absurdly trying to get the paper-weight into my waistcoat pocket, and then putting it down in great confusion. "I I have an account at Monceau's in the Rue Duphot, and..." "I beg your pardon," interrupted Dr. Chéron: "but who is Monceau?" "Monceau's Monceau's livery-stables, sir." Dr. Chéron slightly raised his eye-brows, and entered the name.
But this triumph was soon eclipsed by his exaggerated love of money, which was always his principal weakness. General Duphot, the French ambassador in Rome, had been assassinated in that city.
"What! you here?" both the lover and his mistress exclaimed. Saniel related why he was at Monaco, and what he had done since his arrival. "With my money! Ah! She is very well," Duphot cried. "And you will play no more?" the woman asked. "I have all I want." "Then you will play for me." He wished to decline, but they drew him to the roulette table, and each put a louis in his hand. "Play." "How?"
I was rather disturbed by this confidence, and I had a vague idea of the painful drama which was acting so differently on the various members of this humble home. On September 1, 1862, the day I was to make my debut, I was in the Rue Duphot looking at the theatrical posters. They used to be put up then at the corner of the Rue Duphot and the Rue St. Honore.
"What! you here?" both the lover and his mistress exclaimed. Saniel related why he was at Monaco, and what he had done since his arrival. "With my money! Ah! She is very well," Duphot cried. "And you will play no more?" the woman asked. "I have all I want." "Then you will play for me." He wished to decline, but they drew him to the roulette table, and each put a louis in his hand. "Play." "How?"
As he threw a glance around him, asking from things the inspiration that his brain did not furnish, he caught sight of the letter he had just received, and it suggested an idea. Duphot was at Monaco to play. Why should he not go also, and play?
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