But at last they detected a shadowy
form moving slowly to and fro in the middle of the room. It was Morange,
bareheaded and frock-coated; he had hastened thither at the first news
with the same air as if he had been repairing to his office. He seemed to
be at home; it was he who received the visitors in a scared way, overcome
as he was by this sudden demise, which recalled to him his daughter's
abominable death. His heart-wound had reopened; he was livid, all in
disorder, with his long gray beard streaming down, while he stepped
hither and thither without a pause, making all the surrounding grief his
own.
As soon as he recognized the Froments he also spoke the words which came
from every tongue: "What a frightful misfortune, an only son!"
Then he pressed their hands, and whispered and explained that Madame
Beauchene, feeling quite exhausted, had withdrawn for a few moments, and
that Beauchene and Blaise were making necessary arrangements downstairs.
And then, resuming his maniacal perambulations, he pointed towards an
adjoining room, the folding doors of which were wide open.
"He is there, on the bed where he died. There are flowers; it looks very
nice.
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