“Ah! yes,” he resumed; “ M. Scaufflaire!”

If the old woman could have seen him at that moment, she would have been frightened.

A tolerably long silence ensued. He examined the flame of the candle with a stupid air, and from around the wick he took some of the burning wax, which he rolled between his fingers. The old woman waited for him. She even ventured to uplift her voice once more:⁠—

“What am I to say, Monsieur le Maire?”

“Say that it is well, and that I am coming down.”

Hindrances