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Again, she had no well-defined object; but she watched her opportunity, and since Vaudrey's power was enlarged, well, she was to profit by it. Claire Dujarrier, who had already served her so well, could be useful to her again and advise her advantageously. That will be seen. "Are you desirous of attending Collard's funeral?" Vaudrey asked Marianne.
An English writer who heard a great deal of her and who saw her often about this time writes that there was nothing wonderful about her except "her beauty and her impudence." She had no talent nor any of the graces which make women attractive; yet many men of talent raved about her. The clever young journalist, Dujarrier, who assisted Emile Girardin, was her lover in Paris.
She informed him immediately that Claire Dujarrier whom she had seen, would secure a renewal from Gochard, who was unknown to Vaudrey, from three months to three months until the expiration of six months in consideration of an additional twenty thousand francs for each period of ninety days. "I did not understand that at first," Marianne began by remarking.
Dujarrier was challenged to a duel by Beauvallon, a political enemy; and when Lola was on her way to stop the meeting she met a mournful procession bringing back her dead lover's body, on which she flung herself in an agony of grief and covered it with kisses.
You are not made of the stuff of a true-born lover. What you have just told me is the remark of a loon!" "Ah! if I had only known you!" "Or anything! But I am better than you, you see. I was better advised than you. The bill of exchange that you owe to the Dujarrier or to Gochard, whichever you like it inconveniences you, I know!" "Yes," said Vaudrey, "but "
Once, however, on going out with Marianne in the Champs-Élysées, he had met the old Dujarrier with the swollen eyelids and the yellow hair that he had known formerly. One of his friends, the Marquis Vergano, had committed suicide at twenty for this woman who was old enough to be his mother.
Marianne rang several times when she arrived at the garden railing of the little house. The bells sounded as if they were coated with rust. An ancient maid-servant, astonished and morose, came to open the door. She conducted the young woman into the salon where Claire Dujarrier sat alone, eating cakes, with her terrier on her lap.
What was there in common between these names and that of the duchess? And the Dujarrier, that Dujarrier whose manner of living was known to the Castilian, how had she become associated with Marianne's life? Ah! since he had commenced, this Gochard would make an end of it. He would tell everything! Even if he did not wish it, he would speak now.
It seemed to her that a sudden rift had opened before her and a gloriously sunny future pictured itself to her mind. What an inspiration it was to think of Claire Dujarrier! She would sign everything she wished, acknowledge the sums lent, with any interest that might be demanded. Much she cared about that, indeed! She was sure now to free herself and to succeed.
And be sure, he carries every word of our conversation to the perfidious Palmerston, his uncle." "I will beard him in his den," thought Jools. "I will meet him corps-a-corps the tyrant of Europe shall suffer through his nephew, and I will shoot him as dead as Dujarrier."
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