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It is true that Plon at first objected, but Marie could persuade him into anything, and he only grumbled. On one winter day, Marie was stooping over the stove stirring something in an earthen pipkin; Périne, seated on the wooden stool, leaned forward and watched her operations with excessive interest.
In taking away or adding together one can't puzzle her. I don't mean that I can't," she continued, apparently addressing no one in particular, "because I am a poor ignorant woman; but wiser people than I. Now, Périne, you shall have your lesson. See here, I shall stand near my bed, and you over there with your face to the wall. Do you understand?"
At the door, seeing the angry and distracted gesture of her husband, she paused in consternation. "But what then? Has anything gone wrong? The soup Périne, you unfortunate child, have you touched the soup?" The girl pointed with triumph to where the tobacco had been. "Good stuff, mother," she said, nodding. "The tobacco! You have it put in!
In effect, he stamped his foot with such violence that Périne jumped up and, looking round, saw him vanishing behind the curtains. She shrieked with terror, "The man! Oh, it's the man!" White as death, Jean rushed out and tried to calm her. "Hush, child, hush! it's only me!"
She was always ready to do a kindness, but made no acquaintances, and the only persons who ever climbed to her attic were Plon, who made occasional weighty visitations, often discoursed upon his prowess at the time of the Commune; and an idiot girl called Périne, whom Marie one day found crying in the street; she had no father or mother, and the old rag-picker she lived with beat her.
I rang for Le Duc, put on my dressing-gown, and sent him for my coffee. He had scarcely left the room when the door opened and I saw Perine and the fellow named Wiedan, whom I had seen at Piccolomini's, and who styled himself a friend of St. Germain. I was sitting on my bed, putting on my stockings.
As for No. 7639, which had brought Leblanc in pursuit of Périne, it did not turn out so romantically as might have been desired, having nothing to do with the great robbery of the Rue Vivienne, which remains a mystery to most people to this day.
But she had spoken truly, for after the daily fear of years, the personal danger of encountering the robbers assuredly seemed nothing in comparison with having to do with the police. She told Périne where she was to sit, and tried to extract more coherent details, but only as to the figures was Périne clear.
Through the night, when it came, she thought often uneasily of Périne out in the heart of the great wicked city. But Périne had a haunt or two of her own, and Marie said prayers for her, and slept, hoping the girl would be safe.
Germain had arrived at the Etoile d'Orient, and had been enquiring after me; an attenuated-looking bravo who was introduced to me as the Chevalier de la Perine, whom I recognized at the first glance as the fellow called Talvis, who had robbed the Prince-Bishop of Presburg, who had lent me a hundred Louis the same day, and with whom I had fought a duel at Paris.
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