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Updated: June 15, 2025
Though far from penetrating the many mysteries that surrounded Jacqueline Collin, Sallenauve knew Madame de Saint-Esteve to be a woman of doubtful character and a matrimonial agent, having at times heard Bixiou tell tales of her. "But that woman," he said, "has a shocking notoriety in Paris. She is an adventuress of the worst kind." "I suspected it," said Luigia. "But what of that?"
You asked the waiter for pens and paper, and on a simple note which you sent at three o'clock in the morning to a Monsieur Saint-Esteve the police went to work, and before the evening of the next day the thieves were captured and the jewels restored." "Yes," said the colonel, "I remember all that; my interference was lucky.
At the moment when Victorin was listening to Doctor Bianchon, who was giving him, at some length, his reasons for hoping that the crisis might be got over, the man-servant announced that a client, Madame de Saint-Esteve, was waiting to see him. Victorin left Bianchon in the middle of a sentence and flew downstairs like a madman.
At the very time when Madame Hulot was calling on Josepha, Victorin, in his study, was receiving an old woman of about seventy-five, who, to gain admission to the lawyer, had used the terrible name of the head of the detective force. The man in waiting announced: "Madame de Saint-Esteve." "I have assumed one of my business names," said she, taking a seat.
"Is my aunt at home?" he inquired of the Negro who opened it. Then he followed the man, and was presently ushered into a salon where the Negro announced, "Monsieur de Saint-Esteve." The salon which the famous chief of the detective police now entered was remarkable for the luxury, but still more for the horribly bad taste, of its appointments.
For a whole week Nucingen went almost every day to the shop in the Rue Nueve-Saint-Marc to bargain for the woman he was in love with. Here, sometimes under the name of Saint-Esteve, sometimes under that of her tool, Madame Nourrisson, Asie sat enthroned among beautiful clothes in that hideous condition when they have ceased to be dresses and are not yet rags.
"Well, my dear Madame de Saint-Esteve," said Victorin, showing the dreadful old woman into his study and carefully shutting the doors, "how are we getting on?" "Ah, ha! my dear friend," said she, looking at Victorin with cold irony. "So you have thought things over?" "Have you done anything?" "Will you pay fifty thousand francs?" "Yes," replied Victorin, "for we must get on.
"Yes," replied Vautrin, "it is all in good style, except that devil of a turban of yours, which makes you look like a poll-parrot." Madame de Saint-Esteve placed Sir Francis Drake upon her right, and Desroches on her left; Vautrin sat opposite, flanked on either side by Emile Blondet, of the "Debats," and the Signoria Luigia; the rest of the company placed themselves as they pleased.
On this envelope and disguising his hand the colonel wrote as follows: Monsieur de Saint-Esteve, rue Saint-Anne, near the Quai des Orfevres. That done, he rang the bell and gave orders to put up his carriage, which he had ordered before Maxime's arrival; after which he went out alone on foot, and threw his singular missive into the first street letter-box that he passed.
"Oh! a star, destined, they say, to European success; an Italian, discovered by a Swedish nobleman, Comte Halphertius, through the medium of Madame de Saint-Esteve. The illustrious manager of the London opera-house is negotiating this treaty in order that she shall make her first appearance at his theatre." "Well, adieu, my dear fellow; a pleasant dinner," said Maxime, preparing to depart.
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