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Moral truths as well as human beings change their aspect according to their surroundings, to the point of being actually unrecognizable." "Society exists through settled opinions," said the Duc d'Herouville. "What laxity!" whispered Madame Latournelle to her husband. "He is a poet," said Gobenheim, who overheard her.
We can now imagine the sort of life led by mother and daughter at the Chalet. Monsieur and Madame Latournelle, often accompanied by Gobenheim, came to call and play whist with Dumay nearly every evening. The conversation turned on the gossip of Havre and the petty events of provincial life. The little company separated between nine and ten o'clock.
Overhearing a few acid though polite remarks exchanged between the poet and the two noble ladies, Gobenheim nudged Butscha with his elbow, and said in an undertone, motioning towards the poet and the grand equerry, "They'll demolish one another!" "Canalis has genius enough to demolish himself all alone," answered the dwarf.
As for Gobenheim, he profited by the liquidation to get a part of Monsieur Mignon's business, which lifted his own little bank into prominence.
"You are not very lively this evening," remarked Modeste. "We are playing," said Gobenheim, sorting his cards. No matter how interesting this situation may appear, it can be made still more so by explaining Dumay's position towards Modeste.
"Does Monsieur de La Briere know how to ride?" she asked, for the purpose of teasing him. "Not very well, but he gets along," answered the poet, cold as Gobenheim before the colonel's return. At a cross-road, which Monsieur Mignon made them take through a lovely valley to reach a height overlooking the Seine, Canalis let Modeste and the duke pass him, and then reined up to join the colonel.
Her face expressed the pleasure she took in the smooth petals of the flower she was working. The dwarf, seated between his mistress and Gobenheim, restrained his emotion, trying to find means to approach Modeste and whisper a word of warning in her ear. By taking a position in front of Madame Mignon, Madame Latournelle, with the diabolical intelligence of conscientious duty, had isolated Modeste.
He is in despair at not being able to make his games of whist count for mute adoration of my charms." "Hush, my darling!" cried Madame Latournelle, "here he comes." "Old Althor is in despair," said Gobenheim to Monsieur Mignon as he entered. "Why?" asked the count. "Vilquin is going to fail; and the Bourse thinks you are worth several millions. What ill-luck for his son!"
The young enthusiast ardently admired the man whose life belonged to others, and in whom the habit of studying physical suffering had destroyed the manifestations of egoism. That evening, when Gobenheim, the Latournelles, and Butscha, Canalis, Ernest, and the Duc d'Herouville were gathered in the salon, they all congratulated the Mignon family on the hopes which Desplein encouraged.
Ah! if I could but see my daughter!" cried the poor woman. "But whom is it possible for her to love?" asked the notary. "I'll answer for my Exupere." "It can't be Gobenheim," said Dumay, "for since the colonel's departure he has not spent nine hours a week in this house. Besides, he doesn't even notice Modeste that five-franc piece of a man!
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