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Updated: June 19, 2025
When I returned home to dinner I said to Larive: "Who is that Madame Pierson?" He looked at me in astonishment. "You have lived here many years," I continued; "you ought to know better than I. What do they say of her here? What do they think of her in the village? What kind of a life did she lead before I knew her? Whom did she receive as her friends?"
Yet he is an old school friend; the only one of my twenty-eight classmates whose acquaintance I have kept up. Four are dead, twenty-three others are scattered about in obscure country places; lost for want of news, as they say at the private inquiry offices. Larive makes up the twenty-eight.
I had no thoughts; within, all was silence; I had received such a violent blow, and yet one that was so prolonged in its effects, that I remained a purely passive being and there seemed to be no reaction. My servant, Larive by name, had been much attached to my father; he was, after my father himself, probably the best man I had ever known.
In the village were some people of our acquaintance who frequently visited us. My door was closed to them, although I regretted it; but I could not see any one with patience. Some time, when sure to be free from interruption, I hoped to examine my father's papers. Finally Larive brought them to me, and untying the package with trembling hand, spread them before me.
Yet he is an old school friend; the only one of my twenty-eight classmates whose acquaintance I have kept up. Four are dead, twenty-three others are scattered about in obscure country places; lost for want of news, as they say at the private inquiry offices. Larive makes up the twenty-eight.
In the name of heaven, help me live! God made me a better man than the one you see before you." Brigitte held out her hands and caressed me tenderly. She begged me to tell her all that had led to this sad scene. I spoke of what I had learned from Larive, but did not dare confess that I had interviewed Mercanson. She insisted that I listen to her explanation.
In an instant I was overwhelmed by the flood of passengers which it poured on the pavements. "Hallo, you here! How goes it? What are you staring at? My stovepipe? Observe it well, my dear fellow the latest invention of Leon; the patent ventilating, anti-sudorific, and evaporating hat!" It was Larive who had just climbed down from the knifeboard.
Even I, who can not entirely share this optimism, feel that I incline to the side of hope. When I reached home, the porter handed me two cards from Larive. On the first I read: CH. LARIVE, Managing Clerk. The second, on glazed cardboard, announced, likewise in initials, another piece of news: CH. LARIVE, Formerly Managing Clerk.
"Larive, tell me where you have met Mademoiselle Charnot?" "Oh, come! I see it's serious. My dear fellow, I am so sorry I did not tell you she was perfection. If I had only known!" "That's not what I asked you. Where have you seen her?" "In society, of course. Where do you expect me to see young girls except in society? My dear Fabien!" He went off laughing.
When Larive entered the room to serve me, he saw it; he hesitated, looked at the portrait and then at me; in his eyes there shone a melancholy joy that I could not fail to understand. It seemed to say: "What happiness! We are to suffer here in peace!" I gave him my hand, which he covered with tears and kisses. He looked upon my grief as the mistress of his own.
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