In his despair he had
returned home to seek consolation in the society of his friend the
concierge. "Have you the answer?" he asked.
"Yes, here it is," replied Chupin, and Florent had just slipped
the letter into his pocket, and was engaged in counting out the
thirty sous which he had promised his messenger, when the familiar
cry, "Open, please," was heard outside.
M. de Coralth had returned. He sprang to the ground as soon as
the carriage entered the courtyard, and on perceiving his servant,
he exclaimed: "Have you executed my commissions?"
"They have been executed, monsieur."
"Did you see the baroness?"
"She made me wait two hours to tell me that the viscount need not
be worried in the least; that she would certainly be able to
comply with his request to-morrow."
M. de Coralth seemed to breathe more freely. "And the other
party?" he inquired.
"Gave me this for monsieur."
The viscount seized the missive, with an eager hand, tore it open,
read it at one glance, and flew into such a paroxysm of passion
that he quite forgot those around him, and began to tear the
letter, and utter a string of oaths which would have astonished a
cab-driver. But suddenly realizing his imprudence, he mastered
his rage, and exclaimed, with a forced laugh: "Ah! these women!
they are enough to drive one mad!" And deeming this a sufficient
explanation, he added, addressing Florent.
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