Can I show myself now?"
The train stopped at the station. Manuel Folgat jumped out lightly; and,
offering the marchioness his hand to assist her, he said,--
"You will be pleased with yourself, madam. Your courage will not be
useless. All Sauveterre seems to be here."
This was more than half true. Ever since the night before, a report had
been current,--no one knew how it had started,--that the "murderer's
mother," as they charitably called her, would arrive by the nine o'clock
train; and everybody had determined to happen to be at the station at
that hour. In a place where gossip lives for three days upon the last
new dress from Paris, such an opportunity for a little excitement was
not to be neglected. No one thought for a moment of what the poor old
lady would probably feel upon being compelled thus to face a whole
town; for at Sauveterre curiosity has at least the merit, that it is not
hypocritical. Everybody is openly indiscreet, and by no means ashamed
of it. They place themselves right in front of you, and look at you, and
try to find out the secret of your joy or your grief.
It must be borne in mind, however, that public opinion was running
strongly against M. de Boiscoran. If there had been nothing against him
but the fire at Valpinson, and the attempts upon Count Claudieuse,
that would have been a small matter.
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