It is clear enough that this belongs to the _haute pegre_,
none of your common burglars would have attempted such a daring stroke;
and I would lay a wager, too, that they're not so far off from here, if
they're in Paris, that is. I shall keep a sharp look-out, for the reward
is fabulous."
"Really!" said Madame Didier with a sigh.
"One would suppose you wanted it yourself," said Plon angrily. "Now what
possible good could it do to you? It is extraordinary that people--women
especially--can't be contented, but must always be wishing for what they
haven't got."
"I was only thinking," Marie answered apologetically.
"Then don't think. Women should leave that to others," Having delivered
which sententious maxim, M. Plon rose with some difficulty from his
chair, and gazed round the room. It was a habit of his, but it always
frightened Marie, and it frightened her yet more when he turned towards
the recess and stood contemplating the curtains. "You keep those so
tightly drawn one would--Eh! what's the matter!"
For Madame Didier, stooping over the stove, had uttered a sharp feminine
shriek.
"I have burnt my finger?" she exclaimed, wringing her hand.
"That comes of thinking. Does it hurt?"
"Hurt! Of course it does."
"Let me see," he said coming over.
But Marie hastily bound a bit of rag round her hand.
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