"Didn't you succeed with the manager, then?
The fact is that it's difficult to feel any pity for fellows who, if they were the masters, would, as they themselves say, sweep us all away." M.de Larombiere jerked his chin approvingly.

For some time past he had been haunted by the Anarchist peril.

But Pierre, distressed and quivering, again began to plead his cause.

He spoke of all the frightful misery, the homes where there was no food, the women and children shivering with cold, and the fathers scouring muddy, wintry Paris in search of a bit of bread.

All that he asked for was a line on a visiting card, a kindly word from the Countess, which he would at once carry to Baroness Duvillard to prevail on her to set the regulations aside.