Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="----------3D63B7DA2CCEAB71" ------------3D63B7DA2CCEAB71 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=windows-1252 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Iads, has stained his cheeks scarlet with juice came in, looking for her spectacles. Furtively, in a whisper, she asked hi= m for a little money. In old days she used to save the halfpence to slip th= em into the "little lad's " hand; now, grown feebler than the child, she tr= embled at the idea of destitution; she hoarded, and asked charity of the pr= iests. The fact is, her wits were weakening. Very often she would inform he= r brother that she did not mean to let the week pass without going to see t= he Brideaus. Now the Brideaus, jobbing tailors at Montrouge in their lifeti= me, had been dead, both husband and wife, for the last two years. Jean gave= her a louis, which she took with a delight so ugly to see that the poor la= d took refuge out of doors. Presently, without quite knowing how, he found = himself on the _Quai_ near the _Pont d'Iena_. It was a bright day, but the = gloomy walls of the houses and the grey look of the river banks seemed to p= roclaim that life is hard and cruel. Out in the stream a dredger, all drab = with marl, was discharging one after the other its bucket-fuls of miry grav= el. By the waterside a stout oaken crane was unloading millstones, wheeling= backwards and forwards on its axis. Under the parapet, near the bridge, an= old dame with a copper-red face sat knitting stockings as she waited for c= ustomers to buy her apple-puffs. Jean Servien thought of his childhood; man= y a time had his aunt taken him to the same spot, many a time had they watc= hed together the dredger hauling aboard, bucketful by bucketful, the muddy = dregs of the river. Very often his aunt had stopped to exchange ideas with = the old stallkeeper, while he examined the counter which was spread with a = napkin, the carafe of liquorice-water that stood on it, and the lemon that = served as stopper. Nothing was changed, neither the dredger, nor the rafts = of timber, nor the old woman, nor the four ponderous stallions at either en= d of the _Pont d'Iena_. Yes, Jean Servien could hear the trees along the _Q= uai_, the waters of the river, the very stones of the parapet calling to hi= m: "We know you; you are the little boy his aunt, in a peasant's cap, used = to bring here to see us in former days. But we shall never ------------3D63B7DA2CCEAB71 Content-Type: text/html; charset=windows-1252 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable $subj

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came in, looking for her spectacles. Furtively, in a whisper, she asked hi= m for a little money. In old days she used to save the halfpence to slip th= em into the "little lad's " hand; now, grown feebler than the child, she tr= embled at the idea of destitution; she hoarded, and asked charity of the pr= iests. The fact is, her wits were weakening. Very often she would inform he= r brother that she did not mean to let the week pass without going to see t= he Brideaus. Now the Brideaus, jobbing tailors at Montrouge in their lifeti= me, had been dead, both husband and wife, for the last two years. Jean gave= her a louis, which she took with a delight so ugly to see that the poor la= d took refuge out of doors. Presently, without quite knowing how, he found = himself on the _Quai_ near the _Pont d'Iena_. It was a bright day, but the = gloomy walls of the houses and the grey look of the river banks seemed to p= roclaim that life is hard and cruel. Out in the stream a dredger, all drab = with marl, was discharging one after the other its bucket-fuls of miry grav= el. By the waterside a stout oaken crane was unloading millstones, wheeling= backwards and forwards on its axis. Under the parapet, near the bridge, an= old dame with a copper-red face sat knitting stockings as she waited for c= ustomers to buy her apple-puffs. Jean Servien thought of his childhood; man= y a time had his aunt taken him to the same spot, many a time had they watc= hed together the dredger hauling aboard, bucketful by bucketful, the muddy = dregs of the river. Very often his aunt had stopped to exchange ideas with = the old stallkeeper, while he examined the counter which was spread with a = napkin, the carafe of liquorice-water that stood on it, and the lemon that = served as stopper. Nothing was changed, neither the dredger, nor the rafts = of timber, nor the old woman, nor the four ponderous stallions at either en= d of the _Pont d'Iena_. Yes, Jean Servien could hear the trees along the _Q= uai_, the waters of the river, the very stones of the parapet calling to hi= m: "We know you; you are the little boy his aunt, in a peasant's cap, used = to bring here to see us in former days. But we shall never ------------3D63B7DA2CCEAB71--