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This man with the piercing dark-blue eyes before him, who looked so resolute, who had the air of one who could say, "This is the way to go," because he knew and was sure; he was not to be denied. "Who was Virginie Poucette?" repeated the Young Doctor insistently, yet ever so gently. "Was she such a prize among women? What did she do?" A flood of feeling passed over Jean Jacques' face.
She did not hear what Mere Langlois called after her, for Mere Langlois had been slow to recover from the unexpected violence dealt by one whom she had always bullied. "Poor Jean Jacques!" said Virginie Poucette to herself as her horses ate up the ground. "That's another bit of bad luck. He'll not sleep to-night.
"It is no marriage, of course!" squeaked a voice from the crowd. "It'll be all right among the English, won't it, monsieur le juge?" asked the gentle widow of Palass Poucette, whom the scene seemed to rouse out of her natural shyness. "Most sure, madame, most sure," answered the Judge. "It will be all right among the English, and it is all right among the French so far as the law is concerned.
Perhaps Virginie Poucette never had shed as many tears in any whole year of her life as she did that night, not excepting the year Palass Poucette died, and left her his farm and seven horses, more or less sound, and a threshing-machine in good condition. The woman had a rare heart and there was that about Jean Jacques which made her want to help him.
"There they are at peace, Jean Jacques and Virginie that best of best women." "To think married to Virginie Poucette to think of that!" His sister's voice fluttered as she spoke. "But entirely. There was nothing in the way and she meant to have him, the dear soul! I do not blame her, for at bottom he is as good a man as lives.
But there was the widow of Palass Poucette, and, if he was to pursue and frequent her, something must be done to keep him decently figured in her eye and mind. "It cost me three dollars to come here and save a man from jail to-day, m'sieu' le juge," he added firmly. The Judge pressed the point of his cane against the stomach of the hypocrite and perjurer.
The rest I lent money to never paid; but they paid, the dummy and the harlot that was, they paid! But they paid for the rest also! If I had refused these two because of the others, I'd not be fit to visit at Neighbourhood House where Virginie Poucette lives." He looked closely at the order she had given him again, as though to let it sink in his mind and be registered for ever.
The words were addressed to Sebastian Dolores, who said to himself that this was a refuge surer than "The Red Eagle," or the home of the widow Poucette. He climbed in beside Jean Jacques with a sigh of content. "Ah, but that but that is the end of our philosopher," said Judge Carcasson sadly to the Clerk of the Court, as with amazement he saw this catastrophe.
"Who was Virginie Palass Poucette?" he asked. Jean Jacques threw out a hand as though to say, "Attend here is a great thing," and he began, "Virginie Poucette ah, there...!" Then he paused, for suddenly there spread out before him that past, now so far away, in which he had lived and died.
M. Fille's eyes said as plainly as words could do, "Courage, my friend!" Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat! The knocking was sharp and imperative now. The Clerk of the Court went quickly forward and threw open the door. There stepped inside the widow of Palass Poucette. She had a letter in her hand. "M'sieu', pardon, if I intrude," she said to M. Fille; "but I heard that M'sieu' Jean Jacques was here.
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