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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"Monsieur Lecoq"

"
"What! can starlings talk?"
"Yes, sir, as well as you or I," rejoined the woman, jumping down from
the chair.
Just then the bird, as if it had understood the question, cried very
distinctly: "Camille! Where is Camille?"
But Lecoq was too preoccupied to pay any further attention to the
incident. "Madame," he began, "I wish to speak to the proprietor of this
hotel."
"I am the proprietor."
"Oh! very well. I was expecting a mechanic--from Leipsic--to meet me
here in Paris. To my great surprise, he has not made his appearance; and
I came to inquire if he was stopping here. His name is May."
"May!" repeated the hostess, thoughtfully. "May!"
"He ought to have arrived last Sunday evening."
The woman's face brightened. "Wait a moment," said she. "Was this
friend of yours a middle-aged man, of medium size, of very dark
complexion--wearing a full beard, and having very bright eyes?"
Lecoq could scarcely conceal his agitation. This was an exact
description of the supposed murderer. "Yes," he stammered, "that is a
very good portrait of the man."
"Ah, well! he came here on Shrove Sunday, in the afternoon. He asked for
a cheap room, and I showed him one on the fifth floor. The office-boy
was not here at the time, and he insisted upon taking his trunk upstairs
himself. I offered him some refreshments; but he declined to take
anything, saying that he was in a great hurry; and he went away after
giving me ten francs as security for the rent.


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