Chapter 27 Chapter 27

"Have you read it?" Armand asked me when I had finished reading the manuscripts. "If what I have read is true, my friend, I understand what you are going through!" "A letter from my father also confirmed all this to me." We talked for a while about this tragic fate that had just ended, and then I went home to rest for a while. Armand had been very sad, but after the story he was told, he was a little relieved, he soon recovered, and we went to visit Prudence and Julie Duprat together. Prudence had just been bankrupt, and she told us that Marguerite had made her bankrupt, that Marguerite had borrowed a lot of money from her during her illness, and that she had made many loans which she could not pay. Marguerite died without paying her the bill, and without giving her a receipt, she was not a creditor either.

Madame Duvernoy spread this nonsense everywhere, and as the reason for her financial difficulties, she asked Armand for a thousand-franc note, and Armand did not believe she was telling the truth, but he preferred to pretend Believe it or not, he respects everything and everyone who has ever had a relationship with his mistress. We then went to the home of Juli Dupra, who told us about the horrors she had witnessed and shed sincere tears as she remembered her friend. At last we went to Marguerite's grave, where the first rays of the April sun had already opened the green leaves. There was one last thing Armand had to do, and that was to go to his father.He also wanted me to go with him.

Together we arrived in City C, where I met Mr. Duval, who was just as his son described him to me: tall, dignified, and kind. He welcomed Armand with tears of happiness, and shook my hand cordially.I soon discovered that in this tax collector, fatherly love is above all else. His daughter's name was Blanche, and her eyes were bright and clear, and her serene lips showed that her soul was full of holy thoughts, and her lips were full of pious words.She smiled at her brother's return, little did the innocent maiden know that a distant whore had sacrificed her happiness just to preserve her name.

I stayed with this happy family for a few days and the whole family was busy with this man who brought them a healed heart. I went back to Paris and wrote the story as I heard it.The only saving grace of this story is its truth, though it may be controversial. I do not draw the conclusion from this story that all girls like Marguerite could be like her; far from it, but I know one of them who, in her life, was There had been a serious love for which she had suffered until she died.It is a duty of mine to tell the reader what I have heard. I am not preaching fornication and evil, but wherever I hear such a noble sufferer praying, I will do it for him.

I repeat, Margaret's story is rare, but if it were universal it would seem unnecessary to write it.