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M
.
Richard
behaved
like
a
hero
.
He
retreated
no
farther
.
His
threatening
forefinger
seemed
already
to
be
pointing
out
the
keeper
of
Box
Five
to
the
absent
magistrates
.
"
I
am
going
to
have
you
arrested
,
Mme
.
Giry
,
as
a
thief
!
"
"
Say
that
again
!
"
And
Mme
.
Giry
caught
Mr
.
Manager
Richard
a
mighty
box
on
the
ear
,
before
Mr
.
Manager
Moncharmin
had
time
to
intervene
.
But
it
was
not
the
withered
hand
of
the
angry
old
beldame
that
fell
on
the
managerial
ear
,
but
the
envelope
itself
,
the
cause
of
all
the
trouble
,
the
magic
envelope
that
opened
with
the
blow
,
scattering
the
bank
-
notes
,
which
escaped
in
a
fantastic
whirl
of
giant
butterflies
.
The
two
managers
gave
a
shout
,
and
the
same
thought
made
them
both
go
on
their
knees
,
feverishly
,
picking
up
and
hurriedly
examining
the
precious
scraps
of
paper
.
"
Are
they
still
genuine
,
Moncharmin
?
"
"
Are
they
still
genuine
,
Richard
?
"
"
Yes
,
they
are
still
genuine
!
"
Above
their
heads
,
Mme
.
Giry
’
s
three
teeth
were
clashing
in
a
noisy
contest
,
full
of
hideous
interjections
.
But
all
that
could
be
clearly
distinguished
was
this
LEIT
-
MOTIF
:
