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Updated: May 5, 2025
"A remarkable man!" said Narcisse Dauphin. "There never was such a speech. Never in any courtroom was there such an appeal." "What did he do?" asked Mademoiselle Loisel, her hand in Rosalie's. "Everything," answered the Cure. "There he stood in his tattered clothes, the beard burnt to his chin, his hands scorched, his eyes bloodshot, and he spoke "
He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab companies everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope. She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity. Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.
But as he bade her good-bye, he plucked up needful courage. "Forgive me, Rosalie," he said, "but I have sometimes thought that you have more griefs than one. I have thought" he paused, then went on bravely "that there might be there might be unwelcomed love, or love deceived." A mist came before her eyes, but she quietly and firmly answered: "I have never been deceived in love, Monsieur Loisel."
"Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that." She uttered a cry of joy: "True! I never thought of it." The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress. Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loisel: "Choose, my dear."
He asked: "You are sure you still had it when you left the ball?" "Yes. I felt it on me in the vestibule at the palace." "But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab." "Yes. That's probable. Did you take the number?" "No. And you, you did not notice it?" "No." They looked at each other thunderstruck. At last Loisel put on his clothes again.
And for Pani's sake oh, leave me here a little while longer. For I can see Pani grows weaker and day by day loses a little of her hold on life. Then there is Monsieur Loisel, who will guard me, and Monsieur Fleury and Madame, who are most kind. Yes, you will consent. After that I will come and be your most dutiful daughter. But, oh, think; I owe the Indian woman a child's service as well."
"Monsieur," she answered, with a changed voice. "He is speaking. They are cheering him." Ten minutes later, the Cure and the Notary entered the room. M. Loisel came forward to Rosalie, and took her hands in his. "You should not have done it," he said. "I wanted to do something," she replied. "To get the cross for you seemed the only payment I could make for all your goodness to me."
But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming. Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not? She went up.
I will enforce it, too," he added, with vigour, and, turning, walked up the street, as Mrs. Flynn admitted the Cure to the post-office. A half-hour later M. Loisel again appeared at the post-office door, a pale, beautiful face at his shoulder. He had not been brave enough to say what was on his mind. But as he bade her good-bye, he plucked up needful courage.
Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof. She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen.
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