“After the occurrences of yesterday, M. de Thaller must be at his office. Besides, haven’t you his private address?”
“I beg your pardon, I have.”
The old lawyer’s small eyes were shining with unusual brilliancy. He certainly felt deeply the loss of his money; but the idea that he had been swindled for the benefit of some clever rascal was absolutely insupportable to him.
“If we were wise,” he said again, “we’d do this. Mme. Favoral would take these fifteen thousand francs, and we would go together, she and I, to see M. de Thaller.”
It was an unexpected good-fortune for Mme. Favoral, that M. Chapelain should consent to assist her. So, without hesitating,
“The time to dress, sir,” she said, “and I am ready.” She left the parlor; but as she reached her room, her son joined her.
“I am obliged to go out, dear mother,” he said; “and I shall probably not be home to breakfast.”
She looked at him with an air of painful surprise. “What,” she said, “at such a moment!”
“I am expected home.”
“By whom? A woman?” she murmured.