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I was handing Madame Gillot to her carriage, when, from the staircase, Madame de Soubray called to us not to quit her, as she was pursued by a man whom she detested, and wished to avoid. We had hardly turned round, when Mehee offered her his arm, and she exclaimed with indignation, "How dare you, infamous wretch, approach me, when I have forbidden you ever to speak to me?
He was the pupil of Claude Gillot, and afterwards his assistant, and it was not unnatural that a close friendship should have been formed between Lancret and Watteau, or that it should have been dissolved by the deliberate imitation by the former of the latter's style seeing how successful the imitation was.
In another room, the Bavarian Minister Cetto was conferring with the spy Mehee de la Touche; but observed at a distance by Fouche's secretary, Desmarets, the son of a tailor at Fontainebleau, and for years a known spy. When I was just going to retire, the handsome Madame Gillot, and her sister, Madame de Soubray, joined me.
About ten o'clock the bell rang, and Moreau came in with his friend Gillot. They had read the evening papers which gave an account of the incident from their point of view; some spoke of the "spontaneous" indignation of the crowd and approved of the rebuke inflicted by popular contempt.
Do you suppose that the people are of our way of thinking? Perhaps, or they may agree with the others. They will take up all opinions one after the other." "You are a revolutionary then because you are discouraged?" said Clerambault, laughing. "There are plenty like that among us." "Gillot came out of the war more optimistic than he went in."
"Gillot is the forgetful sort, but I don't envy him that," said Moreau bitterly. "But you ought not to upset him," said Clerambault. "Gillot needs all the help you can give him." "Help from me?" said Moreau incredulously. "He is not naturally strong, and if you would make him so, you must let him see that you believe in him." "Do you think belief comes by willing to have it?"
One day Moreau had just been telling Clerambault of some gloomy experience of the trenches: "Yes," said Gillot, "it did happen like that and the worst of it was, that it had no effect on us, not the least little bit." And when Moreau protested indignantly: "Well, perhaps you, and one or two more may have minded a little, but most of them did not even notice it."
They showed him a vicious article in the nationalist paper which had been active against Clerambault for weeks, and which was so encouraged by the manifestation of the day that it called on all its friends to renew the attack the next morning. Moreau and Gillot foresaw that there would be trouble when Clerambault went to the Palais, and they had come to beg him to stay in the house.
'Let us laugh, so long as we are ready to die. ... we might say. And then this terrible force of habit, that Gillot was talking about. A man will get used to no matter what ridiculous or painful conditions, provided they last long enough, and that he has company. He becomes habituated to cold, to heat, to death, and to crime.
I was handing Madame Gillot to her carriage, when, from the staircase, Madame de Soubray called to us not to quit her, as she was pursued by a man whom she detested, and wished to avoid. We had hardly turned round, when Mehee offered her his arm, and she exclaimed with indignation, "How dare you, infamous wretch, approach me, when I have forbidden you ever to speak to me?
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