But Papa Ravinet did not by any means seem so sure of that.
“That is your lookout,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Still, you may be sure they will ask you how it could happen that one of your tenants should fall into such a state of abject poverty without your giving notice to anybody.”
“Why, in the first place, I do not wait upon my lodgers. They are free to do what they choose in their rooms.”
“Quite right, Master Chevassat! quite right! So you did not know that M. Maxime no longer came to see Miss Henrietta?”
“He still came to see her.”
In the most natural manner in the world, Papa Ravinet raised his arms to heaven, and exclaimed as if horror-struck,—
“What! is it possible? That handsome young man knew how the poor girl suffered? he knew that she was dying of hunger?”
Master Chevassat became more and more troubled. He began to see what the old merchant meant by his questions, and how unsatisfactory his answers were.
“Ah! you ask too many questions,” he said at last. “It was not my duty to watch over M. Maxime. As for Miss Henrietta, as soon as she is able to move, the serpent! I tell you I’ll send her off pretty quickly!”
The old merchant shook his head, and said in his softest voice,—