But what had become of it? From the moment that he gave it to
her until now she had not once thought of it.
She raised herself in bed, and in an imperious voice:
"My dress," she said to the old nurse, seated beside her; "give me my
dress."
The woman obeyed; with an eager hand Marie-Anne examined the pocket.
She uttered an exclamation of joy on finding the letter there.
She opened it, read it slowly twice, then, sinking back on her pillows,
she burst into tears.
Maurice anxiously approached her.
"What is the matter?" he inquired anxiously.
She handed him the letter, saying: "Read."
Chanlouineau was only a poor peasant. His entire education had been
derived from an old country pedagogue, whose school he attended for
three winters, and who troubled himself much less about the progress of
his students than about the size of the books which they carried to and
from the school.
This letter, which was written upon the commonest kind of paper, was
sealed with a huge wafer, as large as a two-sou piece, which he had
purchased from a grocer in Sairmeuse.
Pages:
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512