Accordingly he thoughtfully retraced his steps,
feeling intensely disgusted with himself. "What a fool I am!" he
grumbled. "If I had kept the old woman in suspense, instead of
blurting out the truth, I might have learned the real object of
her visit; for she had an object. But what was it?"
The doctor spent the two hours that remained to him before making
his second visit in trying to discover it. But, although nothing
prevented him from exploring the boundless fields of improbable
possibilities, he could think of nothing satisfactory. There was
only one certain point, that Madame Leon and Mademoiselle
Marguerite were equally interested in the question as to whether
the count would regain consciousness or not. As to their
interests in the matter, the doctor felt confident that they were
not identical; he was persuaded that a secret enmity existed
between them, and that the housekeeper had visited him without
Mademoiselle Marguerite's knowledge. For he was not deceived by
Madame Leon, or by her pretended devotion to Mademoiselle
Marguerite. Her manner, her smooth words, her tone of pious
resignation, and the allusion to the grand name she had the right
to bear, were all calculated to impose upon one; but she had been
too much disconcerted toward the last to remember her part. Dr.
Jodon lacked the courage to return to his sumptuous rooms, and it
was in a little cafe that he thus reflected upon the situation,
while drinking some execrable beer brewed in Paris out of a glass
manufactured in Bavaria.
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