The Baroness was roused from these painful thoughts by the greeting of the stove-fitter, who came to show her evidence of his prosperity.
‘In a year, I’ll be able to pay back the money you lent us, Madame, for it’s God’s money; it belongs to the poor and unfortunate. If I do well, you’ll be able to dip into our purse one day. Through you, I’ll repay the help you gave us.’
‘At the moment I don’t want money from you,’ said the Baroness. ‘I want co-operation in a good deed. I’ve just seen the little Judici girl who is living with an old man, and I want to have them married in church, legally.’
‘Oh, Père Vyder! He’s a very decent, nice fellow, who gives good advice. In the two months he’s been here the poor old man has already made friends in the neighbourhood. He keeps my accounts in order. He’s a brave colonel, I believe, who’s done good service under the Emperor. Oh, how he loves Napoleon! He has a decoration but he never wears it. He’s waiting till he’s re-established his affairs, for he has debts, poor dear man. I think he may even be in hiding, with the bailiffs after him.’
‘Tell him that I’ll pay his debts, if he’s willing to marry the child.’
‘Oh, that’s soon done. Why not go there now, Madame? It’s only two steps away, in the Passage du Soleil.’
The Baroness and the stove-fitter set out for the Passage du Soleil.
‘This way, madame,’ said the stove-fitter, pointing down the Rue de la Pépinière.
The Passage du Soleil runs, in fact, from the beginning of the Rue de la Pépinière through to the Rue du Rocher.
Half-way down this recently constructed passage, with shops let at a very modest rent, the Baroness noticed, above a shop-window screened by green taffeta curtains high enough to prevent the inquisitive glances of passers-by, a sign with the words PUBLIC LETTER-WRITER, and on the door:
BUSINESS AGENCY
Petitions drawn up,
Accounts put in order, etc.
Work carried out confidentially and promptly
Inside it was like the waiting-rooms where Paris omnibus passengers wait for their connections. An inside staircase presumably led to the entresol flat, lit from the gallery, which went with the shop. The Baroness noticed a blackened whitewood desk, cardboard boxes, and a shabby, second-hand armchair. A cap and a green taffeta eye-shade, attached with filthy copper wire, indicated either precautions taken for disguise or a weakness of the eyes to be expected in an old man.
‘He’s upstairs,’ said the stove-fitter. ‘I’ll go up and tell him and get him to come down.’
The Baroness lowered her veil and sat down. A heavy step shook the little wooden staircase, and Adeline could not restrain a piercing cry when she saw her husband, Baron Hulot, wearing a grey knitted jacket, old grey flannel trousers, and slippers.
‘What can I do for you, Madame?’ said Hulot gallantly.
Adeline got up, grasped Hulot’s arm, and, in a voice broken with emotion, said:
‘At last I’ve found you!’
‘Adeline!’ cried the Baron in amazement, and he closed the shop door. ‘Joseph, go out by the side-entrance,’ he called out to the stove-fitter.
‘My dear,’ she said, forgetting everything in her overflowing joy, ‘you can return to the bosom of your family. We’re rich. Your son has an income of a hundred and sixty thousand francs a year. Your pension is unencumbered; you have arrears of fifteen thousand francs that can be cashed simply on presentation of a certificate that you’re alive. Valérie is dead and has left you three hundred thousand francs. People have quite forgotten about you. Come, you can return to society, and you’ll find a fortune waiting for you in your son’s house. Come, and our happiness will be complete. I’ve been looking for you for nearly three years and I had such high hopes of finding you that I have a flat ready waiting for you. Oh, leave this place. Leave the appalling situation I see you in.’
‘I’m quite happy to go,’ said the Baron in a daze, ‘but can I bring the little girl with me?’
‘Hector, give her up. Do this for your Adeline, who has never asked you for the least sacrifice. I promise to give the child a dowry, to arrange a good marriage for her, and to have her educated. Let it be said that one of those who made you happy is happy herself and will never again lapse into vice, into the gutter.’
‘So it’s you’, said the Baron with a smile, ‘who wanted to make me get married? Stay here for a moment,’ he went on. ‘I’ll go and get dressed upstairs; I’ve some decent clothes there in a trunk.’
When Adeline was left alone, she looked round the horrible shop and burst into tears.
‘He was living here,’ she said to herself, ‘while we live in luxury! Poor man! How he has been punished, he who was the most well-dressed of men!’