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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Listen, my dear," she cooed, "I've a great favour to ask you. Would you mind walking around to the farms and telling them that Maxence will be here to-morrow morning? His little boy has just come over to tell me." The coming of Maxence produced an indescribable enthusiasm wherever I announced the news. Maxence is the only blacksmith in Neuilly.
But he was singularly mistaken. She looked at him with an astonished air, and slowly, "You unhappy!" she uttered, "you who have a family, relations, a mother who adores you, a sister." Less excited, Maxence might have wondered how she had found this out, and would have concluded that she must feel some interest in him, since she had doubtless taken the trouble of getting information.
They will soon be rid of me." "Lucienne," said Maxence in a sorrowful tone. M. de Tregars now stepped forward. "You shall live, mademoiselle," he uttered in a grave voice. "You shall live to learn to love life." And, as she was looking at him in surprise, "You do not know me," he added. Timidly, and as if doubting the reality, "You," she said, "the Marquis de Tregars!"
At the moment when he reached the yard, he found himself in presence of Maxence. Pale, his head bare, his eyes wild, shaking with a nervous chill, the poor fellow looked like a madman. Noticing M. de Tregars, "Ah, my friend!" he exclaimed, "what misfortune!" "Lucienne?" "Dead, perhaps. The doctor will not answer for her recovery. I am going to the druggist's to get a prescription."
"If Monsieur Maxence Gilet committed the folly of going to live under old Rouget's roof, he would be a coward if he allowed himself to be turned off like a valet without asking why." "Of course," said Mignonnet dryly. "A folly that doesn't succeed becomes a crime." At this moment Max joined the old soldiers of Napoleon, and was received in significant silence.
In real life, unfortunately, the life which we both live, you and I, it is not with words, were they a yard long, that the baker, the grocer, and those rascally landlords, can be paid, or that dresses and shoes can be bought." She made no answer. "Now, then," he went on, "here you are without a penny. Is it Maxence who will supply you with money? Poor fellow! Where would he get it?
For a few minutes Marius de Tregars remained in observation; but, as nothing stirred, "We must find out something, somehow," he exclaimed impatiently. And noticing a large grocery store bearing No. 62, he directed his steps towards it, still accompanied by Maxence. It was the hour of the day when customers are rare.
"You both owe money to Monsieur Maxence Gilet; who, for six years, has paid for your debauchery. Listen, both of you, to my guardianship accounts; after that, I shall have more to say.
"Come," said M. Tregars, whose agitation was manifest, "come, let us breakfast: we have not a moment to lose." And, whilst his servant was bringing in his modest meal, "I am expecting M. d'Escajoul," he said. "Show him in as soon as he comes." Retired as he had lived from the financial world, Maxence had yet heard the name of Octave d'Escajoul.
"If Monsieur Maxence Gilet committed the folly of going to live under old Rouget's roof, he would he a coward if he allowed himself to be turned off like a valet without asking why." "Of course," said Mignonnet dryly. "A folly that doesn't succeed becomes a crime." At this moment Max joined the old soldiers of Napoleon, and was received in significant silence.
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