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Nor did the grocery store pay; the few half-pence which were left there occasionally in exchange for a glass of liquor were pocketed by Vantrasson, who spent them at some neighboring establishment; for it is a well-known fact that the wine a man drinks in his own shop is always bitter in flavor.
She would probably have told us many things." "I interrupted her, it is true, and sent her away and you know why. But she is in our service now; and when you are calm, when you have regained your senses, nothing will prevent you from questioning her. It may be useful for you to know who this man Vantrasson is, and how and where he met Mademoiselle Marguerite."
Vantrasson, my husband, accompanied me, and while we were talking with the concierge, a young woman passed through the hall, and he recognized her as a person who some time ago was well no better than she should be. Now, however, she's a young lady as lofty as the clouds, and the deceased count has been passing her off as his daughter. Ah! this is a strange world."
He had almost reached it, not without suffering considerable injury, when it suddenly opened, and a young man clad in black, with a smooth shaven face, entered the shop, and sternly exclaimed: "Why! what's all this?" The sight of the newcomer seemed to stupefy Vantrasson. "Ah! it is you, Monsieur Maumejan?" he faltered, with a crestfallen air. "It's nothing; we were only in fun."
The young fellow was our friend Victor Chupin, now somewhat the worse for his encounter with Vantrasson that same morning. His face was considerably disfigured, and one of his eyes was black and swollen; nevertheless he was in a state of ecstatic happiness. Happy, and yet anxious; for, as he preceded Mademoiselle Marguerite, he said to himself: "How shall I tell her that I have succeeded?
Shall we find the establishment closed?" "No; certainly not. Vantrasson doesn't merely keep furnished rooms; he's a grocer, and sells liquor too. His place is open until eleven o'clock at least. But if you are going there to present a bill, it's perhaps a little late. If I were in your place, m'sieur, I should wait till to-morrow. It's raining, and the streets are deserted.
However, as he found himself in such a plight and could not afford to let any chance escape, he repaired merely for form's sake to the Vantrasson establishment. It had not changed in the least since the evening he visited it in company with M. Fortunat but seen in the full light of day, it appeared even more dingy and dilapidated.
Should any suspicion bring Madame Vantrasson here, all would be lost." "She cannot come upon us unawares, my dear mother. Chupin has promised not to lose sight of her. If she stirs from her shop, he will hasten here and throw a stone against the shutters to warn us." But even this did not satisfy Madame Ferailleur.
Vantrasson had brought not one sheet of stamped paper, but two. A bad pen and some muddy ink were produced, and M. Fortunat began to draw up an acknowledgment according to the established formula.
To tell the truth, they never even discovered his name." "What, not even his name?" "Not even his name." Unable to master his emotion, M. Fortunat had at least the presence of mind to rise and step back into the darker part of the shop. But his gesture of disappointment and the muttered oath that fell from his lips did not escape Madame Vantrasson.
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