It was not until he had discovered
that the husband had become discouraged and had discontinued his
search, that the count began his. It was a long and arduous one,
but at last it succeeded, thanks to the assistance of a clever
scoundrel named Fortunat."
The baron with difficulty repressed a movement of eager curiosity,
and remarked: "What a peculiar name!"
"And his first name is Isidore. Ah! he's a smooth-tongued
scoundrel, a rascal of the most dangerous kind, who richly
deserves to be in jail. How it is that he is allowed to prosecute
his dishonorable calling I can't understand; but it is none the
less true that he does follow it, and without the slightest
attempt at concealment, at an office he has on the Place de la
Bourse."
This name and address were engraved upon the baron's memory, never
to be effaced.
"However," resumed M. de Valorsay, "the poor count was fated to
have no peace. The husband had scarcely ceased to torment him, he
had scarcely begun to breathe freely, when the wife attacked him
in her turn. She must have been one of those vile and despicable
women who make a man hate the entire sex. Pretending that the
count had turned her from the path of duty, and destroyed her life
and happiness, she lost no opportunity of tormenting him. She
would not allow M. de Chalusse to keep the child with him, nor
would she consent to his adopting the girl.
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