It was indeed a repetition of her mother's tragic
story, with this difference--that Seraphine addressed herself to no
vulgar Madame Rouche, but to an assistant of her own surgeon, Gaude, a
certain Sarraille, who had a dingy den of a clinic in the Passage Tivoli.
It was a bright day in August, and Mathieu, who had come to Paris to make
some purchases at the Beauchene works, was lunching alone with Morange at
the latter's flat, when Seraphine arrived there breathless and in
consternation. Reine, she said, had been taken ill in the country, and
she had brought her back to Paris to her own flat. But it was not
thither; it was to Sarraille's den that she drove Morange and Mathieu.
And there the frightful scene which had been enacted at La Rouche's at
the time of Valerie's death was repeated. Reine, too, was dead--dead like
her mother! And Morange, in a first outburst of fury threatened both
Seraphine and Sarraille with the scaffold. For half an hour there was no
mastering him, but all at once he broke down. To lose his daughter as he
had lost his wife, it was too appalling; the blow was too great; he had
strength left only to weep.
Pages:
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347