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Updated: May 19, 2025
Here M. Verduret was interrupted by an exclamation from Prosper, who was standing near a window. "What is the matter?" he inquired. "There is Clameran!" cried Prosper, "over there." M. Verduret and Joseph ran to the window. "Where is he?" said Joseph, "I don't see him." "There, at the corner of the bridge, behind that orange-woman's stall." Prosper was right.
Clameran had left his place near the orange-woman's stand, and approached the bridge, where he seemed to be trying to make out some unexpected object. "Ah!" said M. Verduret; "he has just discovered our man." Clameran's uneasiness was quite apparent; he walked forward a few steps, as if intending to cross the bridge; then, suddenly turning around, rapidly walked in the direction of the Rue St.
Thrown upon myself, therefore, for what the French call les pieces justificatives of my theories, as well as of my facts, I see no better way to prepare the reader to believe me, than by giving an unvarnished the result of the orange-woman's application; for had my worthy ancestor been subjected to the happy accidents and generous caprices of voluntary charity, it is more than probable I should be driven to throw a veil over those important years of his life that were notoriously passed in the work-house, but which, in consequence of that occurrence, are now easily authenticated by valid minutes and documentary evidence.
A miser who has amassed a million suffers an old friend and benefactor to die in a workhouse, and cannot be questioned before any tribunal for his baseness and ingratitude. Is this because legislators think the orange-woman's conduct worse than the miser's? Not at all.
The inquiries which he made before he saw her sufficiently confirmed the orange-woman's story; and when he returned the presents which Anne had unfortunately received, Mrs.
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