"The deuce!" muttered Maurice, "it must be he; in that case the accusation that I have been seen speaking to him is not false. But I cannot remember taking his hand."
"Maurice," asked the president, "what do you say to all this, now, my friend?"
"That I believe what you have said," said Maurice, musing sadly, who for some time past, without understanding what evil influence saddened his life, had noticed everything darkening around him.
"Do not trifle thus with popularity," said the president. "In these days, Maurice, popularity is life. As for unpopularity, it is to be suspected of treason; and the Citizen Maurice Lindey ought not to brook the suspicion of being a traitor."
Maurice had nothing to reply to sentiments so much in accordance with his own. He thanked his old friend and left the section.
"Ah!" murmured he, "there is too much suspicion and battling. Now," drawing a deep breath,—"now for peace, innocence, and joy; now to Geneviève," and Maurice took the road to the old Rue Saint Jacques.
When he reached the abode of the master-tanner, Dixmer and Morand were supporting Geneviève, who was suffering from a violent attack of hysterics. Thus, instead of being allowed to enter unceremoniously as he was accustomed to do, a servant met him in the passage.
"Announce me, at all events," said he, "and if Dixmer cannot conveniently receive me, I will retire."
The domestic entered the little pavilion, while Maurice remained in the garden. It seemed to him that something strange was going on in the house, and the workmen, instead of being occupied in their usual employment, were pacing restlessly about the garden. At length Dixmer himself appeared.