The mayor ended up being waiting around for him, seated within an armchair. He had been the notary of the area, a high, grave guy of pompous message.
“Maitre Hauchecorne,” said he, “this early early morning regarding the Beuzeville road, you’re seen to select within the wallet lost by Maitre Houlbreque, of Manneville.”
The countryman looked over the mayor in amazement frightened already only at that suspicion which rested he knew not why on him.
“I—I picked up that wallet?”
“I swear I do not even understand any such thing about this.”
“I became seen—I? Whom saw me personally?”
“M. Malandain, the harness-maker.”
Then your man that is old, grasped, and, reddening with anger, stated:
“Ah! he saw me personally, did he, the rascal? I was seen by him picking right on up this string right right right here, M’sieu le Maire.”
And fumbling at the end of their pocket, he pulled from it the end that is little of.
However the mayor incredulously shook his mind:
“You will maybe not make me think, Maitre Hauchecorne, that M. Malandain, that is a guy whoever term is relied on, has mistaken this sequence for a wallet.”
The peasant, furious, raised their hand and spat on the floor beside him just as if to attest their good faith, saying:
“For all of that, it really is Jesus’s truth, M’sieu le Maire. Continue reading “The mayor ended up being waiting around for him, seated within an armchair. He had been the notary of the area, a high, grave guy of pompous message.”