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Updated: June 24, 2025
After a year of married life, therefore, she ruled the house; and Postel, only too happy to have discovered the heiress, meekly submitted to his wife. Mme. Leonie Postel, nee Marron, was nursing her first child, the darling of the old cure, the doctor, and Postel, a repulsive infant, with a strong likeness to both parents.
They had to put David out at the door; he could have wished the evening to last for ever, and it was one o'clock in the morning when Lucien and his future brother-in-law reached the Palet Gate. The unwonted movement made honest Postel uneasy; he opened the window, and looking through the Venetian shutters, he saw a light in Eve's room.
"That brother of yours has gone crazy, mademoiselle," said Postel, lifting his face.
Their present landlord was the successor to the business, for M. Postel let them have rooms at the further end of a yard at the back of the laboratory for a very low rent, and Lucien slept in the poor garret above. A father's passion for natural science had stimulated the boy, and at first induced him to follow in the same path.
"What have yonder folk done to you, uncle, that you should mix yourself up in their affairs?" inquired Leonie, with very perceptible tartness. "They are in trouble, my girl," said the cure, and he told the Postels about Lucien at the Courtois' mill. "Oh! so that is the way he came back from Paris, is it?" exclaimed Postel. "Yet he had some brains, poor fellow, and he was ambitious, too.
David took Eve's hand in his, and drew her into the narrow little room where she had slept for seven years. "Love, you were saying just now that he would want two thousand francs?" he said in her ear. "Postel is only lending one thousand." Eve gave her betrothed a look, and he read all her anguish in her eyes. "Listen, my adored Eve, we are making a bad start in life.
"Postel and his wife have come to see us, no doubt," said the doctor. "No," said Courtois, "the chaise has come from Mansle." "A lawyer!" cried Sechard; "the very word gives me the colic!" "Thank you!" said the Maire of Marsac, named Cachan, who for twenty years had been an attorney at Angouleme, and who had once been required to prosecute Sechard.
Their present landlord was the successor to the business, for M. Postel let them have rooms at the further end of a yard at the back of the laboratory for a very low rent, and Lucien slept in the poor garret above. A father's passion for natural science had stimulated the boy, and at first induced him to follow in the same path.
But when the venerable ecclesiastic brought out the names of David Sechard and Eve, little Postel grew very red, and Leonie, his wife, felt it incumbent upon her to give him a jealous glance the glance that a wife never fails to give when she is perfectly sure of her husband, and gives a look into the past by way of a caution for the future.
David took Eve's hand in his, and drew her into the narrow little room where she had slept for seven years. "Love, you were saying just now that he would want two thousand francs?" he said in her ear. "Postel is only lending one thousand." Eve gave her betrothed a look, and he read all her anguish in her eyes. "Listen, my adored Eve, we are making a bad start in life.
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