"
And as his plan of campaign was already prepared, he entered
without further hesitation.
As Vantrasson heard the door turn upon its hinges, he rose so
awkwardly, or rather so skilfully, as to let all his implements,
wax, knife, and impressions, fall on the floor behind the counter.
"What can I do to serve you?" he asked, in a husky voice.
"Nothing. I wished to speak with your wife."
"She has gone out. She works for a family in the morning."
This was a gleam of light. Chupin had not thought of the only
hypothesis that could explain what seemed inexplicable to him.
However, he knew how to conceal his satisfaction, and so with an
air of disappointment, he remarked: "That's too bad! I shall be
obliged to call again."
"So you have a secret to tell my wife?"
"Not at all."
"Won't I do as well, then?"
"I'll tell you how it is. I'm employed in the baggage room of the
western railway station, and I wanted to know if your wife didn't
call there a few days ago for some trunks?"
The landlord's features betrayed the vague perturbation of a
person who can count the days by his mistakes, and it was with
evident hesitation that he replied:
"Yes, my wife went to the Havre station for some baggage last
Sunday."
"I thought so. Well, this is my errand: either the clerk forgot
to ask her for her receipt, or else he lost it.
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