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Cross, Victoria, 1868-1952

"To-morrow?"

"
"A vous la responsibilite!"
"Moi? je n'en savais rien!"
"Il veut abimer notre sante!"
"Il partera tout de suite!"
I looked at them for a moment in amaze, and the fellow with the
paper thundered out--"Silence," which produced the effect of cold
thrown suddenly in boiling water. The little crowd pressed in upon
me closely and listened awe-struck as the Commissionaire spoke to
me, in French, of course.
"Monsieur," he said, in an impressive tone, "I am informed you have
a dog here!"
I nodded.
"A dog--dead!" and the accent on the last word was terrific.
"My dog unfortunately has died," I said. "Yes"--and I wondered more
and more the upshot of it all.
"Then," thundered the official, purple with excited rage, "how is
it, Monsieur, you have not sent a notification to the police?"
I was fairly taken aback. The matter, though I barely yet
comprehended it, was evidently, in their estimation, one of serious
importance. Involuntarily, I glanced round at the others as the
Commissionaire scowled threateningly at me. They noted my glance,
and attributing it, I suppose, to guilty confusion, there were
suppressed and complacent murmurs all round me, and shakes of the
head.
"Pas d'explication!"
"Vous voyez ca?"
"Point d'excuse!"
"It is scandalous, it is shameful, it is abominable, M'sieur,"
shouted the Commissionaire, "the way you have acted! Twenty-four
hours you hide the dead body of a dog in your bedroom! You hope to
escape the eye of the law! You would bring disgrace on the
gendarmerie, on the municipality of Paris! You laugh at our
regulations, M'sieur, you laugh!" and he brandished the paper
violently.


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