"
"I assure you," said Poiret, "that mademoiselle has a great deal of
conscience, and not only so, she is a very amiable person, and very
intelligent."
"Well, now," Mlle. Michonneau went on, "make it three thousand francs
if he is Trompe-la-Mort, and nothing at all if he is an ordinary man."
"Done!" said Gondureau, "but on the condition that the thing is
settled to-morrow."
"Not quite so soon, my dear sir; I must consult my confessor first."
"You are a sly one," said the detective as he rose to his feet.
"Good-bye till to-morrow, then. And if you should want to see me in a
hurry, go to the Petite Rue Saint-Anne at the bottom of the Cour de la
Sainte-Chapelle. There is one door under the archway. Ask there for M.
Gondureau."
Bianchon, on his way back from Cuvier's lecture, overheard the
sufficiently striking nickname of _Trompe-la-Mort_, and caught the
celebrated chief detective's "_Done!_"
"Why didn't you close with him? It would be three hundred francs a
year," said Poiret to Mlle. Michonneau.
"Why didn't I?" she asked. "Why, it wants thinking over. Suppose that
M. Vautrin is this Trompe-la-Mort, perhaps we might do better for
ourselves with him.
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