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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Ah, monsieur!" said Madame Clapart, "a mother is happy, indeed, in knowing that her son has a friend like you; you may rely upon a gratitude which can end only with my life. Oscar, one thing I want to say to you now. Distrust that Georges Marest. I wish you had never met him again, for he was the cause of your first great misfortune in life." "Was he? How so?" asked Godeschal.
Generally the young clerk was without money, or had so little that he could not, if he would, give way to excess. During the last year, the worthy Godeschal had made five or six parties of pleasure with Oscar, defraying the expenses, for he felt that the rope by which he tethered the young kid must be slackened.
Godeschal, Minard junior, Phellion junior, Olivier Vinet, the substitute judge, all men who have been sent about their business, as I am." "Olivier Vinet, the substitute judge!" cried Thuillier, struck with a flash of light. "Of course; the blow must have come from him. His father, they say, has a long arm.
Call her Madame; she makes a point of it." Florentine happened that night to have a friend with her, a certain Marie Godeschal, beautiful as an angel, cold as a danseuse, and a pupil of Vestris, who foretold for her a great choregraphic destiny.
"Monsieur Godeschal, wouldn't you like a glass of water?" said the little messenger. "That imp of a boy!" said Boucard. "Here, get on your double-soled shanks-mare, take this packet, and spin off to the Invalides." "Here set forth," Godeschal went on.
"No," Boucard insisted, in the midst of laughter, "I maintain that he was a brewer in 1789, and a colonel in the time of the Republic." "I bet theatre tickets round that he never was a soldier," said Godeschal. "Done with you," answered Boucard. "Monsieur! Monsieur!" shouted the little messenger, opening the window. "What are you at now, Simonnin?" asked Boucard.
All the world has not the forbearance of Monsieur Godeschal, who forgave his rejection and generously managed that affair about the house." "Explain yourself better," said Thuillier, "for I don't see what you mean." "Nothing is easier to understand. Without counting me, how many suitors have you had for Mademoiselle Colleville?
"Bless me! are you here, Godeschal?" cried Philippe, recognizing in Desroches's head-clerk, as they passed out, the brother of Mariette. "Yes, I have been with Monsieur Desroches for the last two months." "And he will stay with me, I hope, till he gets a business of his own," said Desroches. "How is Mariette?" asked Philippe, moved at his recollections.
"Bless me! are you here, Godeschal?" cried Philippe, recognizing in Desroches's head-clerk, as they passed out, the brother of Mariette. "Yes, I have been with Monsieur Desroches for the last two months." "And he will stay with me, I hope, till he gets a business of his own," said Desroches. "How is Mariette?" asked Philippe, moved at his recollections.
Godeschal, who had served his apprenticeship under Maitre Derville, was not the sort of clerk to allow the precious tradition of the "welcome" to be lost. This "welcome" is a breakfast which every neophyte must give to the "ancients" of the office into which he enters.
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