The doctor seemed satisfied, but he suddenly raised his head to ask, "And
that child is really your own?"
"Oh! monsieur, where could I have got him otherwise?"
"Oh! my girl, children are borrowed, you know."
Then he paused for a moment, still hesitating and looking at the young
woman, embarrassed by some feeling of doubt, although she seemed to
embody all requirements. "And are you all quite well in your family?" he
asked; "have none of your relatives ever died of chest complaints?"
"Never, monsieur."
"Well, of course you would not tell me if they had. Your books ought to
contain a page for information of that kind. And you, are you of sober
habits? You don't drink?"
"Oh! monsieur."
This time the young woman bristled up, and Boutan had to calm her. Then
her face brightened with pleasure as soon as the doctor--with the gesture
of a man who is taking his chance, for however careful one may be there
is always an element of chance in such matters--said to her: "Well, it is
understood, I engage you. If you can send your child away at once, you
can go this evening to the address I will give you. Let me see, what is
your name?"
"Marie Lebleu.
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