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Updated: June 17, 2025
The first point to state is that the Celeste Colleville affair is at an end for you." "Why so?" demanded la Peyrade. "Because I have just seen Thuillier and terrified him with the history of the misfortunes he has incurred, and those he will incur if he persists in the idea of giving you his goddaughter in marriage.
Dutocq, in his close relation to the people, and also the justice of peace, will help me, above all, as I'm not acting for myself; and Colleville, as secretary of the mayor's office, can certainly manage to obtain another fourth of the votes." "You are right!" cried Thuillier. "I'm elected!" "Do you think so?" said la Peyrade, in a voice of the deepest sarcasm.
"So be it!" said Madame Colleville; "you think yourself very clever, but if you let that girl twist you round her finger, so much the worse for you. Come, Thuillier, since we are 'de trop' here." As soon as the pair were alone together, la Peyrade drew up a chair for Celeste, and took one himself, saying:
La Peyrade turned away to console himself with Madame Colleville, who had still too many pretensions to beauty not to be the enemy of a woman made to intercept all homage. "So you also, you think that woman sings well?" she said, contemptuously, to Theodose. "At any rate, I have been to tell her so," replied la Peyrade, "because without her, in regard to Brigitte, there's no security.
"Colleville, poor man, has seen in me the artist repressed by all these bourgeois; silent before them because I feel misjudged, misunderstood, and repelled by them. He has felt the heat of the sacred fire that consumes me. Yes I am," he continued, in a tone of conviction, "an artist in words after the manner of Berryer; I could make juries weep, by weeping myself, for I'm as nervous as a woman.
"Do not misunderstand my intentions," he continued, after receiving from Madame Colleville one of those looks which women trained to the management of passion know how to give, a look that, by mere expression, can convey both severe rebuke and secret community of sentiment.
Her mother, the danseuse, now forty-three years old, retired from the stage and went to live in the country, thus depriving her daughter of the resources derived from her wasteful extravagance. Madame Colleville kept a very agreeable but extremely free and easy household. From 1816 to 1826 she had five children.
Dutocq may have told you, before you left the apartment in the rue Saint-Dominique, that an heiress had been offered to me whose immediate fortune is larger than that which Mademoiselle Colleville will eventually inherit.
"To those who know her, it is really touching," remarked Madame Colleville. The glasses were filled. The guests all looked at one another, evidently expecting a toast, whereupon la Peyrade said: "Messieurs, let us drink to something sublime." Everybody looked curious. "To Mademoiselle Brigitte!"
"Well, let him alone, then," said Brigitte to Colleville. No one insisted, the old man having, unconsciously, pretty nigh discrowned himself in the opinion of the company. But before leaving, the careful housewife removed everything that was at all fragile from his reach; then, by way of a slight attention, she said: "Shall I send you some coffee?"
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