"A man came here to-night in a carriage. Do you know him?"
Madame Olivier had recognized Montes well enough. How could she have
forgotten him? In the Rue du Doyenne the Brazilian had always slipped
a five-franc piece into her hand as he went out in the morning, rather
too early. If the Baron had applied to Monsieur Olivier, he would
perhaps have learned all he wanted to know. But Olivier was in bed. In
the lower orders the woman is not merely the superior of the man--she
almost always has the upper hand. Madame Olivier had long since made
up her mind as to which side to take in case of a collision between
her two benefactors; she regarded Madame Marneffe as the stronger
power.
"Do I know him?" she repeated. "No, indeed, no. I never saw him
before!"
"What! Did Madame Marneffe's cousin never go to see her when she was
living in the Rue du Doyenne?"
"Oh! Was it her cousin?" cried Madame Olivier. "I dare say he did
come, but I did not know him again. Next time, sir, I will look at
him----"
"He will be coming out," said Hulot, hastily interrupting Madame
Olivier.
"He has left," said Madame Olivier, understanding the situation. "The
carriage is gone."
"Did you see him go?"
"As plainly as I see you. He told his servant to drive to the
Embassy."
This audacious statement wrung a sigh of relief from the Baron; he
took Madame Olivier's hand and squeezed it.
"Thank you, my good Madame Olivier. But that is not all.
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