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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Not before Thuillier gives you a power of attorney and five hundred francs. The money should be on the table in a case like this." After the interview with Thuillier was over, la Peyrade took Godeschal in the carriage to the rue du Bethizy, where Desroches lived, explaining that it was on their way back to the rue Saint-Dominique d'Enfer.
"To the opera," cried the head clerk. "In the first place," said Godeschal, "I never mentioned which theatre. I might, if I chose, take you to see Madame Saqui." "Madame Saqui is not the play." "What is a play?" replied Godeschal. "First, we must define the point of fact. What did I bet, gentlemen? A play. What is a play? A spectacle. What is a spectacle? Something to be seen "
Derville looked at the poor man through his eyeglass, and with a little exclamation of surprise he said: "That old man, my dear fellow, is a whole poem, or, as the romantics say, a drama. Did you ever meet the Comtesse Ferraud?" "Yes; she is a clever woman, and agreeable; but rather too pious," said Godeschal. "That old Bicetre pauper is her lawful husband, Comte Chabert, the old Colonel.
"What am I to say to Cerizet, who put the matter into my hands?" he added, as the barrister returned to them. "Tell him that Sauvaignou forced your hand," replied la Peyrade. "And you fear nothing?" said Desroches, in a sudden manner. "I? oh no! I want to give Cerizet a lesson." "To-morrow, I shall know the truth," said Desroches, in a low tone, to Godeschal; "no one chatters like a beaten man."
Well, a haggler like that won't resist the attraction of an extra thousand francs, especially if he is only the instrument of a cupidity behind him. It is no matter to us how he fights it out with those who prompt him. Now, then, do you think you can get the Thuillier family out of this?" "I'll go and see Desroches at once," said Godeschal.
"Fine occupation that, for a clerk in our office!" cried Godeschal. "Will you never control your vanity, popinjay?" "Ah! monsieur," said Madame Clapart, who entered the room at that moment to bring her son some cravats, and overhead the last words of the head-clerk, "would to God that my Oscar might always follow your advice.
"What! have you written by Jingo?" cried Godeschal, looking at one of the novices, with an expression at once stern and humorous. "Why, yes," said Desroches, the fourth clerk, leaning across his neighbor's copy, "he has written, 'We must dot our i's' and spelt it by Gingo!" All the clerks shouted with laughter. "Why!
Honest Godeschal said that even if Schmucke's own legal adviser should succeed in deceiving him, he would find out the truth at last, if it were only from some officious barrister, the gentlemen of the robe being wont to perform such acts of generosity and disinterestedness by way of self-advertisement.
"I am calling him that you may ask him whether he is a colonel or a porter; he must know." All the clerks laughed. As to the old man, he was already coming upstairs again. "What can we say to him?" cried Godeschal. "Leave it to me," replied Boucard. The poor man came in nervously, his eyes cast down, perhaps not to betray how hungry he was by looking too greedily at the eatables.
"What trick can we play that cove?" said the third clerk, whose name was Godeschal, in a low voice, pausing in the middle of a discourse he was extemporizing in an appeal engrossed by the fourth clerk, of which copies were being made by two neophytes from the provinces.
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