A triumphant exclamation from M. Verduret interrupted Mme. Gypsy. He was radiant.
“Hein!” he said to Prosper, forgetting his bad humor of a few minutes before; “Hein! What did I tell you?”
“He has evidently——”
“Been afraid to give way to his first impulse; of course he has. He is now seeking for proofs of your assertions. He must have them by this time. Did the ladies go out yesterday?”
“Yes, a part of the day.”
“What became of M. Fauvel?”
“The ladies took me with them; we left M. Fauvel at home.”
“Not a doubt of it!” cried the fat man; “he looked for proofs, and found them, too! Your letter told him exactly where to go. Ah, Prosper, that unfortunate letter gives more trouble than everything else together.”
These words seemed to throw a sudden light on Mme. Gypsy’s mind.
“I understand it now!” she exclaimed. “M. Fauvel knows everything.”