Hulot peeped about, here and there, but could see no spot in Cousin
Betty's room where a Brazilian might lie hidden.
"Your indigestion does honor to my wife's dinner, Lisbeth," said he,
scrutinizing her, for Lisbeth was perfectly well, trying to imitate
the hiccough of spasmodic indigestion as she drank her tea.
"How lucky it is that dear Betty should be living under my roof!" said
Madame Marneffe. "But for me, the poor thing would have died."
"You look as if you only half believed it," added Lisbeth, turning to
the Baron, "and that would be a shame----"
"Why?" asked the Baron. "Do you know the purpose of my visit?"
And he leered at the door of a dressing-closet from which the key had
been withdrawn.
"Are you talking Greek?" said Madame Marneffe, with an appealing look
of misprized tenderness and devotedness.
"But it is all through you, my dear cousin; yes, it is your doing that
I am in such a state," said Lisbeth vehemently.
This speech diverted the Baron's attention; he looked at the old maid
with the greatest astonishment.
"You know that I am devoted to you," said Lisbeth. "I am here, that
says everything. I am wearing out the last shreds of my strength in
watching over your interests, since they are one with our dear
Valerie's. Her house costs one-tenth of what any other does that is
kept on the same scale. But for me, Cousin, instead of two thousand
francs a month, you would be obliged to spend three or four thousand.
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