Georget burst into sobs. Chicotin twisted his face and mouth, and did his utmost not to weep with his friend. Monsieur de Brévanne, who was deeply moved himself, tapped Chicotin on the shoulder, saying to him:
"You are a fine fellow; I shall not forget it."
Chicotin took off his hat and passed the back of his hand over his nose and eyes.
"And you, Georget," continued the count, "you are very angry with me, aren't you? But your young friend Violette has made her peace with me; won't you do as she has done?"
"Violette! monsieur has seen Violette? Is it possible?"
"Yes, my dear boy, and to-day isn't the first time that I have tried to express to her my regret for what had taken place. On the very next day after her unfortunate journey, I went to Paris expressly to see her; but she was not in her place; you must have noticed that I went to Paris several days in succession."
"That is true, monsieur."
"It was always in the hope of meeting Violette; but I did not find her."
"Because she was sick, monsieur," cried Chicotin; "because she was confined to her bed with fever."
"I know it, my boy; she told me all that just now; but she is in her place to-day; and now she is not angry with me any more, and she hopes that you will not be angry with her, Georget; for I told her that you would go to see her; did I do right?"