Rigolett, alone and pensive, having no one else to listen to, had not lost
a word of this conversation, and sympathized deeply in the misfortunes of
this poor woman. She promised herself to mention this to Rudolph as soon as
she should see him, not doubting that he would assist her.

Rigolette, feeling a lively interest in the sad fate of the sister of
Pique-Vinaigre, did not take her eyes from her, and was endeavoring to
approach a little nearer, when, unfortunately, a new visitor entering asked
for a prisoner, and seated himself on the bench between Jeanne and the
grisette. She, at the sight of this man, could not restrain a movement of
surprise, almost fear. She recognized one of the two bailiffs who had come
to arrest Morel, putting in execution the judgment obtained against the
jeweler by Jacques Ferrand.

This circumstance, recalling to Rigolette's mind the untiring persecutor of
Germain, redoubled her sadness, from which her attention had been slightly
withdrawn by the touching and painful communications of the sister of
Pique-Vinaigre. Retreating as far as she could from her new neighbors, the
grisette leaned against the wall, and abandoned herself to her sad
thoughts.

"Hold, Jeanne," resumed Pique-Vinaigre, whose jovial face had become
suddenly clouded; "I am neither strong nor brave; but if I had been there
while your husband was causing you so much misery, very playful things
would not have passed between us. But you did not act rightly--you--"

"What could I do? I have been obliged to suffer what I could not prevent!
As long as there was anything to be sold, my husband sold it, so that he
might go to the tavern with his mistress--everything, even to my little
girl's Sunday frock."