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Updated: June 8, 2025
She now seemed inclined to take a purely critical view of Madame de Cintre, and wished to have it understood that she did not in the least answer for her being a compendium of all the virtues. "No woman was ever so good as that woman seems," she said. "Remember what Shakespeare calls Desdemona; 'a supersubtle Venetian. Madame de Cintre is a supersubtle Parisian.
He took from his pocket, while he stood on the portico, a card upon which, under his name, he had written the words "San Francisco," and while he presented it he looked warily at his interlocutor. His glance was singularly reassuring; he liked the young man's face; it strongly resembled that of Madame de Cintre. He was evidently her brother.
This is what I mean by Newman's tenderness: Madame de Cintre pleased him so, exactly as she was, that his desire to interpose between her and the troubles of life had the quality of a young mother's eagerness to protect the sleep of her first-born child. Newman was simply charmed, and he handled his charm as if it were a music-box which would stop if one shook it.
Valentin put out his hand and laid it upon Newman's arm. "And about their promise their engagement with you?" "They made a distinction. They said it was to hold good only until Madame de Cintre accepted me." Valentin lay staring a while, and his flush died away. "Don't tell me any more," he said at last. "I'm ashamed." "You? You are the soul of honor," said Newman simply.
As to what such sacrifice was now to be made to, here Newman stopped short before a blank wall over which there sometimes played a shadowy imagery. He had a fancy of carrying out his life as he would have directed it if Madame de Cintre had been left to him of making it a religion to do nothing that she would have disliked.
The evening before the ceremony she swooned away, and she spent the whole night in sobs. My mother sat holding her two hands, and my brother walked up and down the room. I declared it was revolting and told my sister publicly that if she would refuse, downright, I would stand by her. I was told to go about my business, and she became Comtesse de Cintre."
Whether they gave him a long rope or a short one he was there now, and Madame de Cintre was opposite to him. She had a tall candlestick on each side of her; she would sit there for the next hour, and that was enough. The dinner was extremely solemn and measured; he wondered whether this was always the state of things in "old families."
"I go away in summer, a little way, to the country." Newman wanted to ask her something more, something personal, he hardly knew what. "Don't you find it rather rather quiet here?" he said; "so far from the street?" Rather "gloomy," he was going to say, but he reflected that that would be impolite. "Yes, it is very quiet," said Madame de Cintre; "but we like that."
I know something about that; I can tell when people want one's money! Why they stopped wanting yours I don't know; I suppose because they could get some one else's without working so hard for it. It isn't worth finding out. It may be that it was not Madame de Cintre that backed out first, very likely the old woman put her up to it. I suspect she and her mother are really as thick as thieves, eh?
Madame de Cintre smiled. "We have neither your powers of reflection nor your depth of seriousness; but we have done our best." "Well, I have a great regard for each of you," Valentin continued. "You are charming young people. But I am not satisfied, on the whole, that you belong to that small and superior class that exquisite group composed of persons who are worthy to remain unmarried.
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