A Little Girl In The Middle Of Nowhere Lost Her Happy Thought

The Count had gone a little mad, he began

doing strange and meaningless things.

He did not want to bury his great love,

he embalmed her, saying that he would keep her close forever.

I remember that in those days the Count was as crazy or invaded, perhaps demeaned or who knows what.

He was studying all day and all nights,

then he wrote; he wrote millions of formulas

which for me have no meaning.

Oh! But me, Commissioner, I am a smart woman and I understand things.

I know what the Count was studying! He was studying

the Magic... The Dark Magic, Commissioner!

More and more the Count Ladurée

lived in a straight-up fantasyland,

an impalpable world made up of visions.

He talked to his wife, as if she was still alive, but she was motionless, embalmed, a stuffed puppet! He talked to plants and animals! He no longer talked to people! He didn’t say any other word! He didn't say a word!

We are one of the wealthiest families in Paris, Mr. Monet, and we cannot afford certain rumors on our behalf.

We can’t! It’s trashy!

Oh! But me... I am a woman of high society, of great nobility and I know well certain things! So, I took my fur and my puppy dressed for the occasion and went to Reverend Dumas to denounce the facts and confess everything to God!

Then I went to the police with Count Ladurée’s documents and denounced him for his magic rituals and his heresies.

Thus, Count Ladurée had to take all of his stuff and run away from Paris, otherwise people would pilloried him as a heretic and / or Satan's follower!

Reading through his things I think he has fled to some distant or exotic country,

bringing the embalmed body of his beloved wife with him.

So he disappeared in a flash leaving their only beautiful daughter

in a shelter for orphans.

My adoption papers are all in the parish of Reverend Dumas.

Anyway,

what Count Ladurée left before escape his properly punishment, is all in his office; you can visit it whenever you want!

I left it as it was to facilitate the course of the investigation and now it is still as it was at the time.

Madame Tussauds said looking at

Dumas with a cunning glance.

It’s not a great story! ... It’s not a great story at all!

Commissioner Monet mumbled

beneath his long black mustaches,

while he was a long way off from hearing.

Her voice was too irritating for his ears. As a music that does not sound good. A scratched disc that stops the pin and blows up ruining

the melody of things.

Would you like something to drink?

A brandy or some coffee? Maybe some tea?

The waitress said to all

the guests in the salon.

In that night of shock-white snow

on the windows steamed up.

In this strange story, full of

unsolved mysteries.

It seemed that everyone, listening to the story about Count Ladurée, they had completely forgotten why they were there.

At that late hour in a night

a few days before Christmas.

They had completely forgotten about

Mary Jane and little Jean Baptiste.

They drank and had conversations again, about this and that, they talked about the weather changes and Madame Tussauds was a very good host. Then they drank a toast again,