"I am quite disposed, Madame--Madame----?"
"Madame Marneffe."
"Dear little Madame Marneffe, to do injustice for your sake.--I have a
cousin living in your house; I will go to see her one day soon--as
soon as possible; bring your petition to me in her rooms."
"Pardon my boldness, Monsieur le Baron; you must understand that if I
dare to address you thus, it is because I have no friend to protect
me----"
"Ah, ha!"
"Monsieur, you misunderstand me," said she, lowering her eyelids.
Hulot felt as if the sun had disappeared.
"I am at my wits' end, but I am an honest woman!" she went on. "About
six months ago my only protector died, Marshal Montcornet--"
"Ah! You are his daughter?"
"Yes, monsieur; but he never acknowledged me."
"That was that he might leave you part of his fortune."
"He left me nothing; he made no will."
"Indeed! Poor little woman! The Marshal died suddenly of apoplexy.
But, come, madame, hope for the best. The State must do something for
the daughter of one of the Chevalier Bayards of the Empire."
Madame Marneffe bowed gracefully and went off, as proud of her success
as the Baron was of his.
"Where the devil has she been so early?" thought he watching the flow
of her skirts, to which she contrived to impart a somewhat exaggerated
grace. "She looks too tired to have just come from a bath, and her
husband is waiting for her. It is strange, and puzzles me altogether."
Madame Marneffe having vanished within, the Baron wondered what his
daughter was doing in the shop.
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