Prasville, when he was alone, felt as if he were waking from a nightmare during which he had performed incoherent actions over which his conscious mind had no control. He was almost thinking of ringing and causing a stir in the passages; but, just then, there was a tap at the door and one of the office-messengers came hurrying in.
“What’s the matter?” asked Prasville.
“Monsieur le secrétaire;-général, it’s Monsieur le Député Daubrecq asking to see you . . . on a matter of the highest importance.”
“Daubrecq!” exclaimed Prasville, in bewilderment. “Daubrecq here! Show him in.”
Daubrecq ran up to Prasville out of breath and caught hold of him with his two enormous hands.
Daubrecq had not waited for the order. He ran up to Prasville, out of breath, with his clothes in disorder, a bandage over his left eye, no tie, no collar, looking like an escaped lunatic; and the door was not closed before he caught hold of Prasville with his two enormous hands:
“Have you the list?”
“Yes.”
“Have you bought it?”