He read it standing up in the hall, and then again asked the man as to the manner of his master's death. And now the Marquis, gathering from a word or two that he heard and from his son's delay that something special had occurred, hobbled out into the hall. "Mr. Melmotte is--dead," said his son. The old man dropped his stick, and fell back against the wall. "This man says that he is dead, and here is a letter from Marie asking me to go there. How was it that he--died?"

He read it standing up in the hall. The Marquis, hearing a word or two, hobbled out to him.
"Mr. Melmotte is dead," said his son. The old man dropped his stick. "This is a letter from Marie asking me to go there. How did he die?"
