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Updated: June 6, 2025
However, after the next act she made a sign to M. Durand. That gentleman rejoined the Baron de Samoreau in the corridor and took him to meet Zibeline, and a sort of council appeared to be going on in the rear of her box. "What the deuce can she be talking about to them?" said Desvanneaux to his wife. "A new offer of marriage, probably.
"But my brother could hardly request his seconds to call upon her for that!" laughingly said the Duchess who, it seemed, had decided to defend the accused one in all attacks made upon her. "Look! Here she comes! She is passing us again. One would think she was deliberately trying to do it!" exclaimed Madame Desvanneaux, just before their carriage reached the Arc de Triomphe.
The two actresses hastened away, escorted by Andre Desvanneaux, a modern Tartufe, who, though married, was seen everywhere, as much at home behind the scenes as in church. Coffee and liqueurs were then served in a salon adjoining the large dining-room, which gave the effect of a private club-room to this part of the restaurant.
Only I am rather slow in forming friendships." "And so am I." "That is obvious, else you would have been married ere this." "No doubt to some one like young Desvanneaux, perhaps. You are very flattering! If you think that I would sacrifice my independence for a man like that " "But surely you do not intend to remain unmarried." "Perhaps I shall if I do not meet my ideal."
But the General would not fail to rally me before my wife regarding my presence here, and Madame Desvanneaux would be pitiless." "Own, however, that you richly deserve a lesson, Lovelace that you are! But I will take pity on you," said Eugenie, opening a door at the end of the room. "The servants' stairway is at the end of that corridor. You know the way!" she added, laughing.
Whether this speech were studied or not, it was pronounced to be in very good taste, and the stranger's conquest of the assemblage was more and more assured. "Since you wish to join us," resumed the Duchess, "allow me to present to you these gentlemen: Monsieur Desvanneaux, our zealous general secretary "
Among these persons was Andre Desvanneaux, whose father, a churchwarden at Ste.-Clotilde, had attained a certain social prestige by his good works, and Paul Landry, in his licentiate in a large banking house in Paris. The last named was the son of a ship-owner at Havre, and his character was ambitious and calculating.
The secretary, M. Andre Desvanneaux, churchwarden of Ste.-Clotilde, as was his father before him, and in addition a Roman count, had just finished his address, concluding by making the following double statement: First, the necessity for combining all available-funds for the purchase of the land required, and for the building of the asylum itself; second, to determine whether the institution could be maintained by the annual resources of the organization.
"Now that I have Madame la Duchesse, your sister, for an ally, I fear no enemies." "Not even if I should call for aid upon the camp of Desvanneaux?" "Alceste leagued with Tartufe? That idea never occurred to Moliere," said Zibeline, mischievously. "Take care!" said the Duchess, interrupting this skirmishing, "you will fall over into the orchestra!
"I feel at liberty to tell you that the place is not far away, and the journey thence will not fatigue you," said the president, with the air of one who has long known what she has not wished to reveal heretofore. "The question of fatigue should not discourage us when it is a matter of doing good," said M. Desvanneaux.
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