Good courage, old fellow!" he added, holding out his hand to Theodose, and making the grasp a test of faithfulness.
The Provencal gave Cerizet his right hand, pressing the other's hand warmly:-- "My good fellow," he said, "be very sure that in whatever position I may find myself I shall never forget that from which you have drawn me by putting me in the saddle here.

I'm simply your bait; but you are giving me the best part of the catch, and I should be more infamous than a galley-slave who turns policeman if I didn't play fair." As soon as the door was closed, Cerizet peeped through the key-hole, trying to catch sight of la Peyrade's face.

But the Provencal had turned back to meet Thuillier, and his distrustful associate could not detect the expression of his countenance.
That expression was neither disgust nor annoyance, it was simply joy, appearing on a face that now seemed freed.

Theodose saw the means of success approaching him, and he flattered himself that the day would come when he might get rid of his ignoble associates, to whom he owed everything.

Poverty has unfathomable depths, especially in Paris, slimy bottoms, from which, when a drowned man rises to the surface of the water, he brings with him filth and impurity clinging to his clothes, or to his person.