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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Do what you think best," he said always. "Arrange the matter with Talouel." How long would this apathy last? One afternoon, when old Coco was bringing them back to Maraucourt, they heard a bell ringing. "Stop," he said; "I think that's the fire alarm." Perrine stopped the horse. "Yes, it's a fire," he said, listening. "Do you see anything?"
"Come in," called out M. Vulfran, in answer to his knock. "What, you ... you at Maraucourt!" he exclaimed when he saw his visitor. "Yes, I had some business to attend to at Picquigny, and I came on here to bring you some news received from Bosnia." Perrine sat at her little table. She had gone very white; she seemed like one struck dumb. "Well?" asked M. Vulfran.
Why should he come back? And then, even if he was in Bosnia or Turkey, that was not to say that he was on his way to Maraucourt. Coming from India to France, why should he have to go to Bosnia? It was not on the route. This remark came from Bendit, who, with his English coolheadedness, looked at things only from a practical standpoint, in which sentiment played no part.
Hadn't her grandfather said that on the morrow he would need her at Maraucourt? "I shall need you at Maraucourt!" She kept repeating these words over and over again as she tramped along the roads over which William had driven her in the trap. How was she going to be employed?
Like everyone at Maraucourt, Mlle. Belhomme was concerned with M. Vulfran's health, and she had often spoken with Dr. Ruchon so she was in a position to satisfy Perrine's curiosity better than Rosalie could. Her grandfather had a double cataract. It was not incurable; if he were operated upon he might recover his sight.
She wondered what the all powerful master of Maraucourt could have to do with this ragged little girl and she did not hesitate to ask. But instead of replying to her question Perrine continued to explain that she wanted to see some black dresses as she was in mourning. "You want a dress so as to be able to attend a funeral then?" "No, it is not for a funeral," said Perrine.
Perhaps she would be alone there and could sit down without anyone paying attention to her. She climbed the hill, then stretched herself out on the grass and looked down over the village ... her father's birthplace, which he had described so often to her mother and herself. She had arrived at Maraucourt!
This name, which she had repeated so often since she had trod on French soil, the name she had seen on the big vans standing outside the Gates of Paris. This was not a country of dreams. She was in Maraucourt; before her she could see the vast works which belonged to her grandfather. He had made his fortune here, bit by bit, sou by sou, until now he was worth millions.
"In India we led a real savage life," said Perrine. "Everything around us belonged to us there, but here, I had no right to this and I was often very afraid." After M. Vulfran had inspected the little log hut he wanted to see the crèche at Maraucourt.
As Perrine did not want to appear too inquisitive, she walked on silently, but Rosalie's tongue could not be still for very long. "Did you come along with your parents to Maraucourt?" she asked. "I have no parents." "No father, no mother!" "No." "You're like me, but I've got a grandmother who's very good, and she'd be still better if it wasn't for my uncles and aunts; she has to please them.
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