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Updated: April 30, 2025
Just let me know, and I will have it changed to oblige you... We shall not fall out about it, Poiret, I dare say?" he added, winking at the superannuated clerk. "Bless my soul, you ought to stand as model for a burlesque Hercules," said the young painter. "I will, upon my word! if Mlle. Michonneau will consent to sit as the Venus of Pere-Lachaise," replied Vautrin.
"I am always in spirits after I have made a good bargain." "Bargain?" said Eugene. "Well, yes, bargain. I have just delivered a lot of goods, and I shall be paid a handsome commission on them Mlle. Michonneau," he went on, seeing that the elderly spinster was scrutinizing him intently, "have you any objection to some feature in my face, that you are making those lynx eyes at me?
"Steady?" said the astonished Poiret. "He is all right." "Do you think so?" asked Poiret. "Lord! Yes, he looks as if he were sleeping. Sylvie has gone for a doctor. I say, Mlle. Michonneau, he is sniffing the ether. Pooh! it is only a spasm. His pulse is good. He is as strong as a Turk.
You are making mountains out of molehills at the outset." Two days later, Poiret and Mlle. Michonneau were sitting together on a bench in the sun. They had chosen a little frequented alley in the Jardin des Plantes, and a gentleman was chatting with them, the same person, as a matter of fact, about whom the medical student had, not without good reason, his own suspicions.
As they entered the dining-room, Eugene de Rastignac was talking apart with Mlle. Taillefer; the conversation appeared to be of such thrilling interest that the pair never noticed the two older lodgers as they passed through the room. None of this was thrown away on Mlle. Michonneau. "I knew how it would end," remarked that lady, addressing Poiret.
Michonneau interposed at this point with, "What is there to hinder Trompe-la-Mort from making off with the money?" "Oh!" said the detective, "a man is told off to follow him everywhere he goes, with orders to kill him if he were to rob the convicts. Then it is not quite as easy to make off with a lot of money as it is to run away with a young lady of family.
"That old bat always makes me shudder," said Bianchon in a low voice, indicating Mlle. Michonneau to Vautrin. "I have studied Gall's system, and I am sure she has the bump of Judas." "Then you have seen a case before?" said Vautrin. "Who has not?" answered Bianchon. "Upon my word, that ghastly old maid looks just like one of the long worms that will gnaw a beam through, give them time enough."
Send Christophe to the Rue du Buffon, tell him to ask for M. Gondureau in the house where you saw me before. Your servant, sir. If you should ever have anything stolen from you, come to me, and I will do my best to get it back for you." "Well, now," Poiret remarked to Mlle. Michonneau, "there are idiots who are scared out of their wits by the word police.
Still, on the other hand, if you ask him for money, it would put him on his guard, and he is just the man to clear out without paying, and that would be an abominable sell." "And suppose you did warn him," Poiret went on, "didn't that gentleman say that he was closely watched? You would spoil everything." "Anyhow," thought Mlle. Michonneau, "I can't abide him.
As soon as you are alone, you give him a slap on the shoulder, and presto! the letters will appear." "Why, that is just nothing at all," said Poiret. "Well, do you agree?" said Gondureau, addressing the old maid. "But, my dear sir, suppose there are no letters at all," said Mlle. Michonneau; "am I to have the two thousand francs all the same?" "No." "What will you give me then?"
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