“My darkie has come back too soon. I shall die if I cannot avenge you on Hortense!”
“Make your mind easy, my pretty little devil!” said Lisbeth, kissing her forehead. “Love and Revenge on the same track will never lose the game. Hortense expects me to-morrow; she is in beggary. For a thousand francs you may have a thousand kisses from Wenceslas.”
On leaving Valerie, Hulot had gone down to the porter’s lodge and made a sudden invasion there.
“Madame Olivier?”
On hearing the imperious tone of this address, and seeing the action by which the Baron emphasized it, Madame Olivier came out into the courtyard as far as the Baron led her.
“You know that if any one can help your son to a connection by and by, it is I; it is owing to me that he is already third clerk in a notary’s office, and is finishing his studies.”
“Yes, Monsieur le Baron; and indeed, sir, you may depend on our gratitude. Not a day passes that I do not pray to God for Monsieur le Baron’s happiness.”
“Not so many words, my good woman,” said Hulot, “but deeds——”
“What can I do, sir?” asked Madame Olivier.
“A man came here to-night in a carriage. Do you know him?”