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Updated: June 25, 2025
But these scruples and these fears were useless now; since Glady failed him, cost what it might and happen what would, he must go to this scamp for assistance. He knew that Caffie lived in the Rue Sainte-Anne, but he did not know the number. He had only to go to one of his patients, a wine-merchant in the Rue Therese, to find his address in the directory.
And when one knew that Glady was the owner of a beautiful house in Paris, and of real estate in the country that brought him a hundred thousand francs a year, it was difficult to imagine that he would long follow Father Brigard.
They had reached the Quai Voltaire, where fiacres were stationed. "At last here are some cabs," Glady said. "Pardon me for leaving you, but I am in a hurry." Gady entered the cab so quickly that Saniel remained staring at the sidewalk, slightly dazed. It was only when the door closed that he understood. "His conscience!" he murmured. "Behold them! Tartufes!"
Crozat, near the door, smiled at the arrivals on shaking hands, and Brigard, his soft felt hat on his head, presided, assisted by his two favorite disciples of the moment, the advocate Nougarede and the poet Glady, neither of whom would turn out badly, he was certain.
"Is it not a social weakness," asked Glady, "to have chosen as witnesses of this act of reparation persons who seem to have been selected for the decorative side of their official positions?" "Profound irony, on the contrary!" said Brigard. "It is a powerful and fruitful lesson, which makes even those who are professional defenders concur in the demolition of the prejudiced. Saniel is a man!"
And when one knew that Glady was the owner of a beautiful house in Paris, and of real estate in the country that brought him a hundred thousand francs a year, it was difficult to imagine that he would long follow Father Brigard.
"I mean that not every one has the chance to make ten francs a day." The vague fears of Glady became definite at these words. They had walked down the Rue Ferou and reached the Place St. Sulpice. "I think that at last I am going to find a cab," he said, precipitately. But this hope was not realized; there was not a single cab at the station, and he was forced to submit to the assault from Saniel.
After giving this excuse he offered Saniel a chair, and, seating himself before his desk, lighted by a lamp from which he had taken the shade, he said: "Doctor, I am ready to listen to you." He replaced the shade on the lamp. Saniel made his request concisely, without the details that he had entered into with Glady.
"He believes himself stronger than life," he said, "because he is sound and intelligent. He must take care that he does not go too far!" When Saniel and Glady reached the street, the rain that had fallen since morning had ceased, and the asphalt shone clear and glittering like a mirror. "The walking is good," Saniel remarked. "It will rain again," responded Glady, looking at the sky.
He pressed the hand that he had taken with some warmth. "I see that you have divined the sentiments of esteem with which you have inspired me." Saniel drew a long breath. "Unfortunately," continued Glady, "I cannot do what you desire without deviating from my usual line of conduct.
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