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"Is that the fact?" he cried, springing up "I thought it was she you were in love with! I heard you were in one of Picault's alcoves together." "Dans quelle terre a borderez-vous qui vous soit plus chère que celle où vous êtes né?" When I reached home my father took me to Dormillière.
Such feelings of contempt and determination nevertheless took possession of me that the relish of Picault's magnificence and the charms of his assembly soured to very repulsion. Indignation above all with my own self took possession of me; for this circle was what I was to have exchanged for the world of Alexandra. Must I endure to be detained here till the time of my appointment with Grace?
His voice can be heard distinct and clear over a perfect hush. What does he say? tell me, have we really caught it correctly? Fact unique in political history; he was refusing the election on account of the frauds! "Grandmoulin," was Picault's subsequent remark, "The young fool has courage. What a deep game he is playing.
At dinner that night, my grandmother said "You must go to Picault's ball, my dear;" and my grave, oracular father added: "Yes, you shall go among our people now. I am about to send you to France." The prospect of that journey, to which it had been my joy at other times to look forward, affected me little in my disturbed condition.
"Until, he began to control the politicans," he immediately resumed, "Picault was a bankrupt financier. Now he is nominally a banker with millions. Once bribed or scandalized, your politician is broken in; and Picault's favourite maxim is 'You can buy the Pope, and pay less for a Cardinal." "I want to get out of this house!"
Lately, however, Picault's corruptionists, whom we thought crushed, have made another assault for the moneys, bullied, lied, and bribed, weighed their silver to the Iscariots, and edged Genest out of his seat." "Who is their man here?" "Libergent, lawyer.
I reflected a little on this change of opinion in Quinet, and its possible causes, till he again broke out abruptly: "Miss Carter gave me a message for you." The recollection of my conduct at Picault's sent a pang through me. "What is it?" I said. The tropical plants around us brought up vividly those at the ball.
As we whirled along in the carriage, the half-moon in the dark blue sky, making heavy shadows on the trees and mansions, lit her cheek and Greek-knotted hair on the side next me with a glamour so that her head and shoulders shone softly in it like a bust of Venus. Picault's was an extensive family mansion of sandstone, built thirty years before for one of the wealthiest merchants of Montreal.
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