“Eh bien? And the two officers?” queried Aunt Morin, after Toinette had gone. “They have stayed a long time. What did they want?”
Jeanne was young. She had eaten the bread of dependence, which Aunt Morin, by reason of racial instinct and the stress of sorrow and infirmity, had contrived to render very bitter. She could not repress an exultant note in her voice. Doggie, too, accounted for something; for much.
“They came to bring good news, ma tante. The English have found all the money and the jewels and the share certificates that Père Grigou hid in the well of La Folette.”
“Mon Dieu! It is true?”
“Oui, ma tante.”
“And they have restored them to you?”
“Yes.”
“It is extraordinary. It is truly extraordinary. At last these English seem to be good for something. And they found that and gave it to you without taking anything?”
“Without taking anything,” said Jeanne.
Aunt Morin reflected for a few moments, then she stretched out a thin hand.