Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 9, 2025
His first impulse was to throw himself into Prosper's arms. "My poor, dear friend!" he said, "my poor Prosper!" But beneath these affectionate demonstrations there was a certain constraint, which, if it escaped the cashier, was noticed by M. Verduret. "Your letter, my dear Prosper," said Raoul, "made me almost ill, I was so frightened by it. I asked myself if you could have lost your mind.
There was Madeleine at this hour of the night, alone with Raoul de Lagors in his room! M. Verduret observed that she still wore her shawl and bonnet. She was standing in the middle of the room, talking with great animation. Her look and gestures betrayed indignant scorn. There was an expression of ill-disguised loathing upon her beautiful face.
But Prosper had already risen. Although he had had a violent fall, he was unhurt; he was in a state when mind governs matter so absolutely that the body is insensible to pain. "I saw," he answered in a hoarse voice, "I saw Madeleine do you understand, Madeleine in that room, alone with Raoul!" M. Verduret was confounded.
"Don't take your blighted hopes of glory so much to heart," replied M. Verduret. "It is a melancholy fact for you that File No. 113 will never leave the record-office; but you must bear your disappointment gracefully and heroically. I will console you by sending you as bearer of despatches to a friend of mine, and what you have lost in fame will be gained in gold."
He tapped with the ends of his fingers in a peculiar way, and the door instantly opened as if someone had been watching for his signal on the other side. The door was opened by a neatly dressed woman of about forty. She quietly ushered M. Verduret and Prosper into a neat dining-room with several doors opening into it. This woman bowed humbly to M. Verduret, as if he were some superior being.
The track once found, we should never rest an instant. When the savage discovers the footprints of an enemy, he follows it persistently, knowing that falling rain or a gust of wind may efface the footprints at any moment. It is the same with us: the most trifling incident may destroy the traces we are following up." M. Verduret suddenly stopped before a door bearing the number 81.
Every evening, at eight o'clock, come to the Archangel, on the Quai Saint Michel, give me a report of your search, and receive your pay. Ask for M. Verduret. If you find the man I will give you fifty francs. Do you accept?" "I rather think I will, monsieur." "Then don't lose a minute. Start off!"
I remember the letter as if I had just written it." And almost verbatim he repeated what he had written. After attentively listening, M. Verduret sat with a perplexed frown upon his face, as if trying to discover some means of repairing the harm done. "That is an awkward letter," he finally said, "to come from a person who does not deal in such things.
His widow, who lives at Montagnette, is supported entirely by one of her relatives, the wife of a rich banker in Paris. No person of the name of Lagors lives in the district of Arles. "That is all," said M. Verduret; "don't you think it enough?" "Really, monsieur, I don't know whether I am awake or dreaming." "You will be awake after a while. Now I wish to remark one thing.
I should certainly be chagrined to the last degree, if these two rascals escape, without having obtained complete satisfaction from them." "It seems to me that you know how to take care of yourself, and can do anything you please." M. Verduret shrugged his shoulders, and said: "Did you not perceive the gaps in my narrative?" "I did not." "That is because you don't know how to listen.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking