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Updated: May 14, 2025
With his lips closed disdainfully, in his determination to remain silent, he seemed to say to the old lady, "Night has come it is time for you to go home." And all the while they could hear Madame Chebe sobbing in the back room, as she went to and fro preparing supper. Mademoiselle Planus got no further satisfaction from her visit.
The dowager Madame Fromont herself could have found nothing to say as to the orderly and cleanly aspect of the place. That was the whole of the intellectual equipment of the room. Pere Planus glanced proudly around. The glass of water was in its place on the walnut table, the box of razors on the dressing-case. "You see, Risler. Here is everything you need.
"Look!" said he, "it is a letter that he is holding so tight." He was about to read it; but one of the officers took it from his hands and passed it to Sigismond, who was still kneeling. "Here, Monsieur. Perhaps you will find in this some last wish to be carried out." Sigismond Planus rose.
And so much the worse for him who lags behind! Thereupon old Planus gave way to a terrible outburst of wrath. "Ah! harlot-harlot!" he cried, shaking his fist; and no one could say whether he was addressing the woman or the city of Paris.
Fromont Jeune had come in person, six months before, to collect the balance in their hands. Sigismond felt that his strength was going. But he summoned courage to say: "Ah! yes; true. I had forgotten. Sigismond Planus is growing old, that is plain. I am failing, my children, I am failing."
Mademoiselle Planus made some objections, but she never had been able to resist her brother's wishes, and the desire to be of service to their old friend Risler assisted materially in persuading her. Thanks to his son-in-law's kindness, M. Chebe had succeeded in gratifying his latest whim.
A thunder of applause and an exclamation from Planus made him raise his eyes. "Come, come, let us go," said the cashier, trying to lead him away. But it was too late. Risler had already seen his wife come forward to the front of the stage and curtsey to the audience with a ballet-dancer's smile.
Then all three began to laugh at the same moment, and heartily too, as if at a joke, a rather broad joke, on the part of the old cashier. "Go along with you, you sly old Pere Planus!" The old man laughed with them! He laughed without any desire to laugh, simply to do as the others did. At last they explained.
"Stop her, stop her! Risler, Planus, I implore you! In pity's name do not let her go in this way," cried Claire. Planus stepped toward the door. Risler detained him. "I forbid you to stir! I ask your pardon, Madame, but we have more important matters than this to consider. Madame Risler concerns us no longer.
The old man's face flushed, and he said in a grave voice, taking his sister's hand: "Mademoiselle Planus, my sister, I ask your pardon for having made you take this step; but the honor of the house of Fromont was at stake." From that moment Sigismond became more and more depressed. His cash-box no longer seemed to him safe or secure.
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