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Madame Colleville's elegance was on a par with that of Tullia, the leading prima-donna, with whom she was intimate; but though the Collevilles encroached on their capital and were often in difficulty by the end of the month, Flavie was never in debt. Colleville was very happy; he still loved his wife, and he made himself her best friend.
"The 'dot' is pretty good; quite as much as Mademoiselle Colleville's." "Then I wouldn't give a fig for it. La Peyrade has signed those notes and he will pay them." "Will he pay them? that's the question. You are not a business man, neither is Theodose; it may come into his head to dispute the validity of those notes.
I'll sound him; leave me to do the thing and, above all, don't thwart his game at the Thuilliers'." Theodose had laid a finger on a sore sport in Flavie Colleville's heart; and this requires an explanation, which may, perhaps, have the value of a synthetic glance at women's life.
"Oh!" replied Minard, "Colleville's anagrams are mere witticisms, which have nothing in common with the sterner accents of Melpomene." "And yet," said Minard, "I can assure you he attaches the greatest importance to that rubbish, and apropos to his anagrams, as, indeed, about many other things, he is not a little puffed up.
Believing that he had lost his bet the incorrigible joker thought it amusing to pretend that he had won it. But a serious question presents itself. Is that dinner to include the clerks who are dismissed?" Poiret. "And those who retire?" Bixiou. Gentlemen, there's a great deal in that anagram of Colleville's.
Colleville, who was son of a first violin at the opera, fell in love with the daughter of a celebrated danseuse. Flavie Minoret, one of those capable and charming Parisian women who know how to make their husbands happy and yet preserve their own liberty, made the Colleville home a rendezvous for all our best artists and orators. Colleville's humble position under government was forgotten there.
"Good-night, friend," said Cerizet, in his nasal tone, which degraded the finest word in the language. "There's one who has got a mouthful to suck!" thought Cerizet, as he watched Theodose going down the street with the step of a dazed man. When la Peyrade reached the rue des Postes he went with rapid strides to Madame Colleville's house, exciting himself as he walked along, and talking aloud.
Thanks to Madame Colleville's intimacies, both the theatre and the ministry lent themselves kindly to the needs of this industrious pluralist, who, moreover, was bringing up, with great care, a youth, warmly recommended to him by his wife, a future great musician, who sometimes took his place in the orchestra with a promise of eventually succeeding him.
"I am too much Colleville's friend not to beg you, Monsieur Fleury, to speak respectfully of his wife." Phellion. "A defenceless woman should never be made the subject of conversation here " Vimeux. "All the more because the charming Madame Colleville won't invite Fleury to her house. He backbites her in revenge." Fleury.
It is so fine a day, will you not take a turn in the Luxembourg?" he added, as they reached the rue d'Enfer at the corner of Colleville's house, opposite to which was a passage leading to the gardens by the stairway of a little building, the last remains of the famous convent of the Chartreux.
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