Yes, people haven't got rid of the horror of it yet." Labordette let a low, incredulous whistle escape him.

For his part, he did not believe in the death of Vandeuvres.

Somebody had sworn he had seen him escaping through a window.

He had set fire to his stable in a fit of aberration, but when it had begun to grow too warm it must have sobered him.

A man so besotted about the women and so utterly worn out could not possibly die so pluckily.
Nana listened in her disillusionment and could only remark: "Oh, the poor wretch, it was so beautiful!".