" ...]midnight, and here I lose all trace of my man. Of course I didn't question Tarot, for fear of putting him on his guard." "Who is this Jules Tarot?" "A workman in mother-of-pearl, a man who polishes shells on a grindstone to make them perfectly iridescent. He's a skillful fellow, and, assisted by his wife, to whom he has taught his trade, can make nearly a hundred francs a week." "They are in easy circumstances, then?" "Oh no. They are both young, they have no children, they are Parisians. Deuce take it, they enjoy themselves. Monday regularly carries away what the other days bring." ...]."
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