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Updated: June 26, 2025
Everything seemed to be clear to her now. "You do not know, I suppose oh, do you happen to know her name?" "He called her Frida." "Frida?" "Yes, Frida. I know that for certain. But she does not come here any more now. But perhaps he's got a letter from her. I'll look, just you wait." And the woman bent down, drew out the paper-basket from under the writing-table and began to rummage in it.
Very slowly she tore the letter up into tiny pieces and dropped them in a Japanese paper-basket. She went to bed and read The Gates until she fell asleep, leaving the light burning. The fear of which she had spoken to Don oppressed her more and more.
The Presiding Judge's son was so extremely obliging as to place a lamp near the two players in such a way as that the light fell full on Madame de la Baudraye, who took up her work; she was embroidering in coarse wool a wicker-plait paper-basket. The three conspirators sat close at hand. "For whom are you decorating that pretty basket, madame?" said Lousteau. "For some charity lottery, perhaps?"
Such despatches rarely came to this house; Yule tore the envelope, read its contents, and stood with gaze fixed upon the slip of paper until the servant inquired if there was any reply for the boy to take with him. 'No reply. He slowly crumpled the envelope, and stepped aside to throw it into the paper-basket. The telegram he laid on his desk.
The Presiding Judge's son was so extremely obliging as to place a lamp near the two players in such a way as that the light fell full on Madame de la Baudraye, who took up her work; she was embroidering in coarse wool a wicker-plait paper-basket. The three conspirators sat close at hand. "For whom are you decorating that pretty basket, madame?" said Lousteau. "For some charity lottery, perhaps?"
The ink-pots had all been collected, and stood together in a tray on the master's table; fragments of examination papers filled the paper-basket, and were littered here and there about the floor, while some promising Latin scholar had scrawled across the blackboard the well-known words, Dulce Domum. These inspiriting signs of a "good time coming" were, however, lost on the Triple Alliance.
The Public Prosecutor looked slily at Madame de la Baudraye and her work, as if he had said to himself, "I have lost my paper-basket!" "Why, madame, may we not think him happy in having a lovely wife, happy in her decorating his paper-baskets so charmingly? The colors are red and black, like Robin Goodfellow.
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