A middle-aged woman, wearing a white apron of very doubtful cleanliness, entered the dealer's warehouse.
"What can I do for you, Madame Charles?"
"Father Micou, is your nephew within?"
"He has gone to the post-office; but I expect him in immediately."
"M. Badinot wishes him to take this letter to its address instantly. There's no answer, but it is in great haste."
"In a quarter of an hour he will be on his way thither, madame."
"He must make great haste."
"He shall, be assured."
The servant went away.
"Is she the maid of one of your lodgers, Father Micou?"