"Not so; but I prefer to have it in my hands."
"Wait a minute."
Ferrand shut the drawer of his bureau, and rose.
"Where are you going to, my dear banker?"
"To look for something to convince you of the truth of the rumors concerning me," said the notary, ironically. And opening a little private staircase which led to the pavilion, without going through the office, he disappeared.
Hardly had he gone when the clerk knocked at the door. "Come in," said
Charles Robert.
"Is not M. Ferrand here?"
"No, my worthy blue-baggist."
"A veiled lady wishes to speak to master instantly, on very pressing business."
"Worthy fellow, your master will return directly; I will tell him. Is she pretty?"