"What a pity! I should be so glad to know something more; and it is very probable that this clerk—what did you call him?"
"Bahuchet, mademoiselle; a bit of a man, not so tall as I am, and with a most original face!"
"This Monsieur Bahuchet must know more; and as he is so talkative, if one had an opportunity to question him——"
At that moment the door of the salon opened, and a servant appeared and said:
"The clerk from the office of madame's solicitor, who came last evening, wishes to know if he may speak to Madame de Ravenelle."
"Oh, yes! yes!" cried Valentine, jumping for joy. "Let him come in; he could not come more opportunely!"
"Eh! mon Dieu! what is it? why this noise, these cries?" demanded the old lady, rudely awakened from her nap. "What is the matter, Valentine?"
"Your solicitor's clerk wishes to speak with you, aunt."
"And that is your reason for shrieking so! Let them send the clerk away; I do not care to attend to any business to-day, I am too tired."
"But, aunt, he came last night; and then, if you knew—he will tell us some very interesting things about the young Comte de Marvejols."