“To-morrow, then.”
Mrs. Sassenay, meanwhile, making her way toward her daughter, was stopped by a group of people in animated conversation. The group was growing larger every minute.
“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Vallerois of a young officer whose uniform bore the epaulettes of the general staff.
“Quite sure,” said the officer. “The news reached our division at six o’clock. The general went in person to call on Mr. Roquevillard.”
“In person,” corroborated Mr. Coulanges, who had been astonished and impressed by this official step toward one who was down and out like Mr. Roquevillard.
Mrs. Sassenay turned to her neighbour, Mr. Latache, for information.
“What news are they talking about?” she inquired.
“Of the death of Lieutenant Roquevillard,” was the reply. “He died of yellow fever in the Soudan.”
“How unfortunate that family is!” murmured Mrs. Sassenay, moved with pity.
“Are they not, indeed!” said Mr. Latache.