alone the reading of that work is a fatiguing process.，
"Perhaps Edmee," I said to myself, "is here!"
However, she was not there, and I could only hear the voice of the hermit saying:
"Now, then! What is the matter? Has the poor dog gone mad? Down, Blaireau! You would never have worried your master in this way. This is what comes of being too kind!"
"Blaireau is not mad!" I exclaimed, as I entered. "Have you grown deaf to the approach of a friend, Master Patience?"
Patience, who was in the act of counting a pile of money, let it fall on the table and came towards me with the old cordiality. I embraced him heartily; he was surprised and touched at my joy. Then he examined me from head to foot, and seemed to be wondering at the change in my appearance, when Marcasse arrived at the door.
Then a sublime expression came over Patience's face, and lifting his strong arms to heaven, he exclaimed:
"The words of the canticle! Now let me depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen him I yearned for."
The hidalgo said nothing; he raised his hat as usual; then sitting down he turned pale and shut his eyes. His dog jumped up on his knees and displayed his affection by attempts at little cries which changed into a series of sneezes (you remember that he was born dumb). Trembling with old age and delight, he stretched out his pointed nose towards the long nose of his master; but his master did not respond with the customary "Down, Blaireau!"
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