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Updated: June 3, 2025
I am not bad all through!" she cried, clasping her hands. "Vouchsafe to rescue Thy wandering lamb, strike her, crush her, snatch her from foul and adulterous hands, and how gladly she will nestle on Thy shoulder! How willingly she will return to the fold!" She got up and looked at Crevel; her colorless eyes frightened him. "Yes, Crevel, and, do you know? I, too, am frightened sometimes.
"I, monsieur?" "Yes, beautiful, noble creature!" cried Crevel. "You have indeed been too wretched!" "Monsieur, be silent and go or speak to me as you ought." "Do you know, madame, how Master Hulot and I first made acquaintance? At our mistresses', madame." "Oh, monsieur!" "Yes, madame, at our mistresses'," Crevel repeated in a melodramatic tone, and leaving his position to wave his right hand.
"He could not find forty thousand francs to marry his daughter off, but he has got them somehow for his new passion." "And do you think that she loves him?" "At his age!" said the old maid. "Oh, what an owl I am!" cried Crevel, "when I myself allowed Heloise to keep her artist exactly as Henri IX. allowed Gabrielle her Bellegrade. Alas! old age, old age! Good-morning, Celestine. How do, my jewel!
Bianchon pronounced that to-night at the latest that horrible creature will depart to the torments that await him. Old Crevel and Madame Marneffe saw the doctor out; and your father, my dear Celestine, gave him five gold pieces for his good news.
It is thus intelligible that Monsieur Crevel should have spoken to Hulot about Madame Marneffe, as knowing what was a secret to the rest of the world; for, as Monsieur Marneffe was away, no one but Lisbeth Fischer, besides the Baron and Valerie, was initiated into the mystery.
Any man who dares look back on the early errors of his life may, perhaps, recall some such reminiscences, and understand, though not excuse, the follies of Hulot and Crevel. Women are so well aware of their power at such a moment, that they find in it what may be called the aftermath of the meeting. "Come, come; after two years' practice, you do not yet know how to lace a woman's stays!
The portraits of the late lamented Madame Crevel, of Crevel himself, of his daughter and his son-in-law, hung on the walls, two and two; they were the work of Pierre Grassou, the favored painter of the bourgeoisie, to whom Crevel owed his ridiculous Byronic attitude.
"The Baron is as good as your husband; Crevel is your adorer; it seems to me that you are quite in order like every other married woman." "No, it is not that, dear, adorable thing; that is not where the shoe pinches; you do not choose to understand." "Yes, I do," said Lisbeth. "The unexpressed factor is part of my revenge; what can I do? I am working it out."
"If you love me, Celestin," said she in Crevel's ear, which she touched with her lips, "keep him there, or I am done for. Marneffe is suspicious. Hector has a key of the outer gate, and will certainly come back." Crevel clasped Madame Marneffe to his heart, and went away in the seventh heaven of delight.
"We will pay it out up to five points," said Marneffe to Crevel. "Very good I have scored two," replied the Mayor. "How long will it take you?" "Ten minutes," said Marneffe. "It is eleven o'clock," replied Valerie. "Really, Monsieur Crevel, one might fancy you meant to kill my husband. Make haste, at any rate." This double-barreled speech made Crevel and Hulot smile, and even Marneffe himself.
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