Poor little Tu-tu had stopped howling. He was dead,—crushed under the human avalanche.
"Yes," said Jean, "this is a quiet house."
"Dame!" replied Mlle. Fouchette, "it is like death!"
CHAPTER XVI[ToC]
An hour later Jean Marot and Mlle. Fouchette were at the foot of the broad stone steps leading to the Hôtel Dieu, the famous hospital fronting on the plaza of Notre Dame.
"I will wait," he said.
"Yes; I will inquire," she assented. "I was here last night." And Mlle. Fouchette ran lightly up the steps and entered the palatial court.