“Yes, yes, I’m the boy. Where’s my family? Can you tell me?”
“I don’t know any more than just what I’ve told you, my boy; I should say my young gentleman.”
“What did Barberin say about my parents? Oh, do tell me,” I said imploringly.
She threw her arms up towards heaven.
“Ah, if that isn’t a story!”
“Well, tell it me. What is it?”
At this moment a woman who looked like a servant came forward. The mistress of the Hotel du Cantal turned to her: “If this isn’t an affair! This boy here, this young gentleman, is the man Barberin talked so much about.”
“But didn’t Barberin speak to you about my family?” I asked.
“I should say so—more than a hundred times. A very rich family it is, that you’ve got, my boy, my young gentleman.”
“And where do they live and what is their name?”