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Updated: May 22, 2025
"What! have you managed to invent a mechanical corset, or a baby's bottle, or a fire engine, or chimneys that consume no fuel, or ovens which cook cutlets with three sheets of paper?" Bixiou. "Well, young Poiret junior, you see, all these gentlemen understand me." Do you know what he is?" Poiret. "I think I do." Poiret. "He is a man paid by government to do work." Bixiou.
Besides, Collin is not the sort of fellow to play such a trick; he would be disgraced, according to his notions." "You are quite right, sir," said Poiret, "utterly disgraced he would be." "But none of all this explains why you do not come and take him without more ado," remarked Mlle. Michonneau.
Madame Poiret, a little old woman as white and wrinkled as a sweetbread, dressed in a dark-blue silk gown, gave her name as Christine Michelle Michonneau, wife of one Poiret, and her age as fifty-one years, said that she was born in Paris, lived in the Rue des Poules at the corner of the Rue des Postes, and that her business was that of lodging-house keeper.
There is that old beggar Poiret, who goes without blacking altogether; he would sooner drink it than put it on his boots. Then there is that whipper-snapper of a student, who gives me a couple of francs. Two francs will not pay for my brushes, and he sells his old clothes, and gets more for them than they are worth. Oh! they're a shabby lot!"
He therefore proposed to himself to sell his money-lending business to the widow Poiret and Cadenet for ten thousand francs; he already possessed thirty thousand; and the two together would enable him to pay the last year's rent in advance, which house-owners in Paris usually demand as a guarantee from a principal tenant on a long lease.
"Fight!" echoed Poiret. "Not they," replied Mme. Vauquer, lovingly fingering her pile of coins. "But there they are under the lime-trees," cried Mlle. Victorine, who had risen so that she might see out into the garden. "Poor young man! he was in the right, after all." "We must go upstairs, my pet," said Mme. Couture; "it is no business of ours." At the door, however, Mme.
"They have been making eyes at each other in a heartrending way for a week past." "Yes," he answered. "So she was found guilty." "Who?" "Mme. Morin." "I am talking about Mlle. Victorine," said Mlle, Michonneau, as she entered Poiret's room with an absent air, "and you answer, 'Mme. Morin. Who may Mme. Morin be?" "What can Mlle. Victorine be guilty of?" demanded Poiret.
Go and see; follow the crowd; money returned if you are not satisfied; execution /gratis/! The appointments are postponed. All the bureaus are in arms; Rabourdin has been informed that the minister will not work with him. Come, be off; go and see for yourselves." They all depart except Phellion and Poiret, who are left alone.
He is cunning, that he is! You don't catch him napping. Then M. Vautrin is a man of consequence, who transacts a good deal of business." "Naturally," said Poiret to himself. "And suppose that the Minister were to make a mistake and get hold of the real Vautrin, he would put every one's back up among the business men in Paris, and public opinion would be against him.
This irritation was not lost on Jacques Collin, who had not counted on the judge's sympathy, and sat lost in apathy, produced by his deep meditations in the effort to guess what the cause could be. The usher now showed in Madame Poiret. At this unexpected appearance the prisoner had a slight shiver, but his trepidation was not remarked by Camusot, who seemed to have made up his mind.
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