"You went there, monsieur? Did you see Violette?" "Yes, I saw her and talked with her." "You talked with her? Ah! I didn't speak to her! With one of my old comrades, named Chicotin, who wouldn't believe that Violette had behaved badly, I followed that Monsieur Jericourt, the man to whose rooms she--she went; and as Chicotin knows that man, he begged him to tell us the truth about the flower girl. As I expected, he confirmed what I had already heard." "It's a pity, for that girl is very interesting, and I discovered in her features a resemblance to a person who was very pretty also--long ago!" "Oh! isn't Violette lovely, monsieur? I told you so! And--excuse me if I ask you a question--but what did she have to say to monsieur?" "She talked about you, my boy." "About me! about me! why on earth did she speak of me, when she doesn't love me and has made me so unhappy? Why does she think of me, when another man has her love, when she did not care for mine, which was so true, so sincere? Is it to make me unhappy again? is it to make me still more desperate, that she speaks of me? I don't want her to talk about me, I will tell her not to!" "Come, come, be calm, Georget; you are not reasonable, my friend; and I think that I shall do well not to let you go to Paris again." "Forgive me, monsieur; you are right to scold me.--Mon Dieu! to think that I hurried back so fast, because I had good news to tell monsieur, and here I have forgotten all about it and haven't told him! It is all Violette's fault, you see, monsieur; she upsets my wits, she makes me forget everything; it is worse than sickness, monsieur!--And she talked about me?" "Well, Georget, as you have thought of it at last, what is the news that you have to tell me?" "Monsieur, I haven't forgotten that sometime ago you employed me to find the residence in Paris of a person whom you wished to find; it was a Monsieur de Roncherolle, wasn't it, monsieur?" At the name of Roncherolle, the count's face instantly lighted up, and he seized Georget's arm, exclaiming: "Yes, yes, it was he! Well, go on--what do you know?" "I know that gentleman's address, at last." "You know it?" "Yes, monsieur.--Mon Dieu! if I had happened to mention it sooner to Chicotin, my old comrade, I should have known it a long while ago. He is that gentleman's messenger, he works for him." "And his address?" "Monsieur de Roncherolle lives on Rue de Bretagne, in the Marais, in a furnished lodging house. He doesn't know the number, but as the street is short, it will be easy to find." "Rue de Bretagne, in the Marais,--a furnished lodging house?" "Yes, monsieur, that is right." "So I have found him at last!" murmured the count, intensely excited. "If I should go this evening--but no, it is too late. He would not admit me perhaps. But to-morrow morning--yes, I will see him to-morrow."