One
word more, and involuntarily, without even knowing it, she would
have confessed her besetting sin, which was listening at, and
peering through, the keyholes of the doors that were closed
against her. Still, she deluded herself with the belief that this
slight indiscretion of her overready tongue had escaped the
magistrate's notice.
He certainly did not seem to be conscious of it, for he was giving
his attention entirely to Mademoiselle Marguerite, who seemed to
have regained the cold reserve and melancholy resignation habitual
to her. "You see, mademoiselle," he remarked, "that I have done
all that is in my power to do. We must now leave the search to
chance, and to the person who takes the inventory. Who knows what
surprise may be in store for us in this immense house, of which we
have only explored three rooms?"
She shook her head gently and replied: "I can never be
sufficiently grateful for your kindness, monsieur, and for the
great service you rendered me in crushing that infamous
accusation. As regards the rest, I have never expected anything--
I do not expect anything now."
She believed what she said, and her tone of voice proved this so
unmistakably that the magistrate was surprised and somewhat
disturbed. "Come, come, my young lady," he said, with almost
paternal kindness of manner, "you ought not to despond. Still,
you must have certain reasons for speaking as you do; and as I am
free for an hour, we are going to have a plain talk, as if we were
father and daughter.
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