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Then, as if trusting himself to stern chance, drawing up his thin figure, the figure of a weary, hungry toiler, he turned into the Rue Marcadet, and walked towards Paris, his tool-bag still under his arm. For an instant Pierre felt a desire to run and call to him that his little girl wished him to go back again.
She has gone to my Uncle Toussaint's in the Rue Marcadet; and she can't stop much longer, for she's been away more than an hour." Thereupon Celine cleared one of the chairs on which lay a handful of scraps of wood, picked up on some waste ground. The bare and fireless room was assuredly also a breadless one.
She has gone to my Uncle Toussaint's in the Rue Marcadet; and she can't stop much longer, for she's been away more than an hour." Thereupon Celine cleared one of the chairs on which lay a handful of scraps of wood, picked up on some waste ground. The bare and fireless room was assuredly also a breadless one.
Then, on raising her eyes she beheld the name of the Rue Marcadet, and she suddenly had the idea of going to see Goujet at his forge. He had no end of times told her to look in any day she was curious to see how iron was wrought. Besides in the presence of other workmen she would ask for Etienne, and make believe that she had merely called for the youngster.
Then, as if trusting himself to stern chance, drawing up his thin figure, the figure of a weary, hungry toiler, he turned into the Rue Marcadet, and walked towards Paris, his tool-bag still under his arm. For an instant Pierre felt a desire to run and call to him that his little girl wished him to go back again.
She has gone to my Uncle Toussaint's in the Rue Marcadet; and she can't stop much longer, for she's been away more than an hour." Thereupon Celine cleared one of the chairs on which lay a handful of scraps of wood, picked up on some waste ground. The bare and fireless room was assuredly also a breadless one.
After going as far as the Rue Marcadet, Pierre retraced his steps; and in the Rue des Saules, certain that he was not mistaken, he entered the courtyard of a kind of barracks or hospital, encompassed by three irregular buildings. This court was a quagmire, where filth must have accumulated during the two months of terrible frost; and now all was melting, and an abominable stench arose.
And of my father's first marriage I've still a brother Eugene Toussaint, who is ten years older than me and is an engineer like Salvat, and has been working ever since the war in the same establishment, the Grandidier factory, only a hundred steps away in the Rue Marcadet. The misfortune is that he had a stroke lately.
Short and lean, with a thin face and long and carefully tended beard, he had the bearing of one who is both vain and quarrelsome. Fourteen years of office life had withered him, and now the long evening hours which he spent at a neighbouring cafe were finishing him off. When Madame Theodore had quitted the house she turned with dragging steps towards the Rue Marcadet where the Toussaints resided.
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