"Excuse me," said he; "but isn't it here that live Mesdames Moineaud, who
make cardboard boxes?"
Norine stood there looking at him with sudden uneasiness. Her heart had
contracted as if she were menaced. She had certainly seen that face
somewhere before; but she could only recall one old-time danger, which
suddenly seemed to revive, more formidable than ever, as if threatening
to spoil her quiet life.
"Yes, it is here," she answered.
Without any haste the young man glanced around the room. He must have
expected more signs of means than he found, for he pouted slightly. Then
his eyes rested on the child, who, like a well-behaved little boy, had
been amusing himself with reading, and had now raised his face to examine
the newcomer. And the latter concluded his examination by directing a
brief glance at the other woman who was present, a slight, sickly
creature who likewise felt anxious in presence of that sudden apparition
of the unknown.
"I was told the left-hand door on the fourth floor," the young man
resumed. "But, all the same, I was afraid of making a mistake, for the
things I have to say can't be said to everybody.
Pages:
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598