the person in question lives at 18 Rue de l’Ecureuil, Montmartre. We understand only too well, however, the interest the agents of Walter’s bank have in supporting those of the Prefect of Police, who tolerates their commerce. As to the reporter of whom it is a question, he would do better to give us one of those good sensational bits of news of which he has the secret—news of deaths contradicted the following day, news of battles which have never taken place, announcements of important utterances by sovereigns who have not said anything—all the news, in short, which constitutes Walter’s profits, or even one of those little indiscretions concerning entertainments given by would-be fashionable ladies, or the excellence of certain articles of consumption which are of such resource to some of our compeers.”
The young fellow was more astonished than annoyed, only understanding that there was something very disagreeable for him in all this.
Boisrenard went on: “Who gave you this ‘Echo’?”
Duroy thought for a moment, having forgotten. Then all at once the recollection occurred to him, “Saint-Potin.” He reread the paragraph in the Plume and reddened, roused by the accusation of venality. He exclaimed: “What! do they mean to assert that I am paid—”
Boisrenard interrupted him: “They do, though. It is very annoying for you. The governor is very strict about that sort of thing. It might happen so often in the ‘Echoes.’ ”
Saint-Potin came in at that moment. Duroy hastened to him. “Have you seen the paragraph in the Plume ?”
“Yes, and I have just come from Madame Aubert. She does exist, but she was not arrested. That much of the report has no foundation.”