It was as though he had
been abruptly surprised in wrong-doing. Perhaps, too, certain dim,
haunting thoughts, which he had long been painfully revolving in his
mind, without as yet being able to come to a decision, took shape at that
moment. At all events, he turned pale and his lips trembled.
Then, as Mathieu gave him to understand that it was a question of placing
Norine somewhere, he involuntarily let an avowal escape him.
"My wife was speaking to me of Madame Bourdieu only this morning," he
began. "Oh! I don't know how it happened, but, as you are aware, Reine
was born so many years ago that I can't give you any precise information.
It seems that the woman has done well, and is now at the head of a
first-class establishment. Inquire there yourself; I have no doubt you
will find what you want there."
Mathieu followed this advice; but at the same time, as he had been warned
that Madame Bourdieu's terms were rather high, he stifled his prejudices
and began by repairing to the Rue du Rocher in order to reconnoitre
Madame Rouche's establishment and make some inquiries of her. The mere
aspect of the place chilled him. It was one of the black houses of old
Paris, with a dark, evil-smelling passage, leading into a small yard
which the nurse's few squalid rooms overlooked.
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