"
"Oh, that will soon be settled.--Suppose you were to see him, madame;
it is not two steps away, in the Passage du Soleil."
So the lady and the stove-fitter went out.
"This way, madame," said the man, turning down the Rue de la
Pepiniere.
The alley runs, in fact, from the bottom of this street through to the
Rue du Rocher. Halfway down this passage, recently opened through,
where the shops let at a very low rent, the Baroness saw on a window,
screened up to a height with a green, gauze curtain, which excluded
the prying eyes of the passer-by, the words:
"ECRIVAIN PUBLIC"; and on the door the announcement:
BUSINESS TRANSACTED.
_Petitions Drawn Up, Accounts Audited, Etc._
_With Secrecy and Dispatch._
The shop was like one of those little offices where travelers by
omnibus wait the vehicles to take them on to their destination. A
private staircase led up, no doubt, to the living-rooms on the
entresol which were let with the shop. Madame Hulot saw a dirty
writing-table of some light wood, some letter-boxes, and a wretched
second-hand chair. A cap with a peak and a greasy green shade for the
eyes suggested either precautions for disguise, or weak eyes, which
was not unlikely in an old man.
"He is upstairs," said the stove-fitter. "I will go up and tell him to
come down."
Adeline lowered her veil and took a seat. A heavy step made the narrow
stairs creak, and Adeline could not restrain a piercing cry when she
saw her husband, Baron Hulot, in a gray knitted jersey, old gray
flannel trousers, and slippers.
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