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Updated: May 20, 2025
Even at the Mehudins' he now met with a colder reception: the old woman would laugh slyly; Muche no longer obeyed him, and the beautiful Norman cast glances of hasty impatience at him, unable as she was to overcome his coldness. At the Quenus', too, he had lost Auguste's friendship.
"Monsieur Gavard's revolver will end by playing him a nasty trick." Gavard now showed the most jubilant bearing at Monsieur Lebigre's. Florent, since ceasing to take his meals with the Quenus, had come almost to live in the little "cabinet." He breakfasted, dined, and constantly shut himself up there.
The Quenus belong to the Fat, and so do the Mehudins; indeed, you have none but Fat ones around you. I should feel uneasy under such circumstances." "And what about Gavard, and Mademoiselle Saget, and your friend Marjolin?" asked Florent, still smiling. "Oh, if you like, I will classify all our acquaintances for you," replied Claude.
Then the Quenus and Florent remained alone, in silence. Lisa stood nibbling a little piece of the hot pudding, keeping her pretty lips well apart all the while, for fear of burning them, and gradually the black compound vanished in her rosy mouth. "Well," said she, "La Normande was foolish in behaving so rudely; the black-pudding's excellent to-day."
Madame Taboureau, you know, said that she should have nothing more to do with the Quenus if they persisted in bringing themselves into discredit by keeping that Florent with them." "Well, now, I suppose, they will stick to the fortune," remarked Madame Lecoeur. "Oh, no, indeed, my dear. The other one has had his share already." "Really? How do you know that?"
At last one day Florent replied: "Oh, we've arranged matters together. I'm only to give him twenty-five francs a month in future." As a matter of fact, Florent had but little need of money. The Quenus continued to provide him with board and lodging; and the few francs which he kept by him sufficed to pay for the refreshment he took in the evening at Monsieur Lebigre's.
"Did anyone ever hear of such an idea?" the fish-girl would exclaim, with a laugh. "Did the old man want to salt his money, since he put it in a salting-tub? Eighty-five thousand francs! That's a nice sum of money! And, besides, the Quenus, no doubt, lied about it there was perhaps two or three times as much.
She was even able to inform them of the exact amount of the money found eighty-five thousand francs though neither Lisa nor Quenu was aware of having revealed this to a living soul. However, it was clear that the Quenus had not given the great lanky fellow his share. He was too shabbily dressed for that. Perhaps he had never even heard of the discovery of the treasure.
They had already met again at the pork shop, and Claude, who knew the fugitive's story, had grasped his hand and told him that he was a sterling fellow. It was very seldom, however, that the artist went to the Quenus'. Translator. "Are you still at my aunt's?" he asked. "I can't imagine how you manage to exist amidst all that cookery. The places reeks with the smell of meat.
Mademoiselle Saget shrugged her shoulders. "Ah, you're very innocent yet, my dear," she said. "Can't you see why the Quenus are always attracting Monsieur Gavard to their place? Well, I'll wager that he'll leave all he has to their little Pauline." "You believe that, do you?" cried Madame Lecoeur, white with rage.
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