An Attic Philosopher in Paris — Volume 3 by Emile Souvestre
page 49 of 51 (96%)
page 49 of 51 (96%)
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convalescent. The good Savoyard brought me a new-laid egg, which she
herself wished to see me eat. It was necessary to relate minutely all my illness to her. At every detail she uttered loud exclamations; then, when the portress warned her to be less noisy, she excused herself in a whisper. They made a circle around me to see me eat my dinner; each mouthful I took was accompanied by their expressions of satisfaction and thankfulness. Never had the King of France, when he dined in public, excited such admiration among the spectators. As they were taking the dinner away, my colleague, the old cashier, entered in his turn. I could not prevent my heart beating as I recognized him. How would the heads of the firm look upon my absence, and what did he come to tell me? I waited with inexpressible anxiety for him to speak; but he sat down by me, took my hand, and began rejoicing over my recovery, without saying a word about our masters. I could not endure this uncertainty any longer. "And the Messieurs Durmer," asked I, hesitatingly, "how have they taken-- the interruption to my work?" "There has been no interruption," replied the old clerk, quietly. "What do you mean?" "Each one in the office took a share of your duty; all has gone on as usual, and the Messieurs Durmer have perceived no difference." |
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