“But where?”
“At M. Comte, the apothecary’s. I was the head clerk there.”
“That is it!... I remember now.... And you have left him?”
“Under the most singular circumstances. It seems I am a writer without being aware of it.”
“How so?”
“You know the Philopolis Catholic Journal?”
“Certainly: an excellent paper. It is a great pity it is not so successful as it deserves to be. But between us, it is partly its own fault: it lacks interest and ability. It has only one able contributor—Victor Barnier, but he does not write often enough.”
“The poor fellow cannot help it. His duties at the apothecary’s shop have naturally superseded his taste for journalism.” ...
“What! are you Victor Barnier?”
“Yes, madame.”