But no, the girl was blind
and deaf to everything but Marie's orders, she sat squarely on the
wooden stool with her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her hands,
every now and then uttering a disjointed sob, until fatigue and tears
brought about their natural consequence, and it became evident that she
was asleep.
Jean got up and shook himself and looked out at her, his head in a
whirl. He began to think that Marie was long absent, and to lay the
blame on the back which was always ready to bear his burdens.
"She will not know where to go, she will stand gossipping with any fool
who asks her a question, and in this time I would wager a piece of
twenty _sous_ the police or some other busy-body will have got on the
track. What more likely? And there's an end to our luck. Why did I let
her waste all these moments? Why didn't I go myself? Women always muddle
things. There would have been a scene, beyond doubt. '_Hola!_--thunder
and lightning, who may this be?'" Jean planted himself in an attitude,
and struck his chest violently. "Then I should have drawn myself up,
always with dignity--thus--'This, gentlemen, is none other than Jean
Didier!'--'Who? What!'--'Jean Didier, at your service, gentlemen,
falsely denounced as Communist, executed and reported dead, but, as you
see alive, and able to render an important service to an ungrateful
country.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232