“She is clumsily shod,” said he; “she is from the provinces.”
When she had passed them:
“Your Excellency is quite right,” said Labarthe. “That is Madame Pélisson.”
At this name the minister, much interested, turned round eagerly. With a vague feeling of his own dignity, he dared not follow her. But he showed his curiosity in his look.
Lebarthe spurred it on.
“I’ll wager, monsieur le ministre, that she won’t go very far.”
They both hastened their steps, and saw Madame Pélisson follow the arcades, skirt the Place du Palais-Royal, and then, throwing uneasy glances to left and right, disappear into the Hôtel du Louvre.
At that the minister began to laugh from the depths of his throat. His little leaden eyes lighted up. And he muttered between his teeth the words which his secretary guessed rather than heard:
“The magistracy is avenged.”