"Has the child's father nothing to
say about--"
"Be quiet, Jean," broke in his wife severely. Then to Rouquin: "You
did not so inform me, M'sieur Rouquin. You told me nothing of this
going into a court or what-you-call-it. I am aghast. Why do you not
tell me of this, M'sieur Rouquin? Is it not enough that I give up my
beloved Napoleon? Am I to be humiliated by revealing my misery, my
despair--"
"Now, now," broke in Mr. Bingle kindly, feeling extremely sorry for
the unfortunate Rouquin, who, after all, was trying to befriend the
woman. The face of the foreign exchange teller was quite livid, no
doubt from the effect of a suppressed indignation. "It is really
nothing to be worried about, Madame. We merely go before a magistrate
in Chambers and swear to certain things--both of you, of course--and
that's all there is to it. You must declare that you, as the mother of
Napoleon, voluntarily relinquish all claim to him in favour of his
foster parents, and we, in turn, swear that--well, that we will bring
him up as our own, and--er--don't you know.
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