"Poor boy!"
"And your pension will not be free before seven or eight months.—If you will wait a minute, I have two thousand francs here."
The Baron held out his hand with fearful avidity.
"Give it me, Lisbeth, and may God reward you! Give it me; I know where to go."
"But you will tell me, old wretch?"
"Yes, yes. Then I can wait eight months, for I have discovered a little angel, a good child, an innocent thing not old enough to be depraved."
"Do not forget the police-court," said Lisbeth, who flattered herself that she would some day see Hulot there.
"No.—It is in the Rue de Charonne," said the Baron, "a part of the town where no fuss is made about anything. No one will ever find me there. I am called Pere Thorec, Lisbeth, and I shall be taken for a retired cabinet-maker; the girl is fond of me, and I will not allow my back to be shorn any more."
"No, that has been done," said Lisbeth, looking at his coat. "Supposing I take you there."
Baron Hulot got into the coach, deserting Mademoiselle Elodie without taking leave of her, as he might have tossed aside a novel he had finished.