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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Public business," answered Margaritis, interrupting him. "I pacificated Calabria under the reign of King Murat." "Bless me! if he hasn't gone to Calabria!" whispered Monsieur Vernier. "In that case," said Gaudissart, "we shall quickly understand each other." "I am listening," said Margaritis, striking the attitude taken by a man when he poses to a portrait-painter.
Occasionally, when the usual visitors made their appearance he would treat them with civility; but as a general thing his remarks and replies were incoherent. For instance, a lady once asked him, "How do you feel to-day, Monsieur Margaritis?" "I have grown a beard," he replied, "have you?" "Are you better?" asked another. "Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" was the answer.
Heraclius Themistocles Margaritis was a professional musician. He was a singer and a composer of songs; he wrote poetry in Romaic, and composed tunes to suit rhymes. But it was not thus that he earned his daily bread, and he was poor, very poor. He was a young man, only twenty-four, and he had married, before he came of age, an Italian girl called Tina.
Moreover, who does not know the repugnance which these people feel to the payment of the two or three thousand francs required at Charenton or in the private lunatic asylums? If any one had spoken to Madame Margaritis of Doctors Dubuisson, Esquirol, Blanche, and others, she would have preferred, with noble indignation, to keep her thousands and take care of the "good-man" at home.
Have you been arguing with him?" added the pitiless landlord; "that must have been funny!" "Funny!" cried Gaudissart. "Funny! Then your Monsieur Vernier has been making fun of me!" "Did he send you there?" "Yes." "Wife! wife! come here and listen. If Monsieur Vernier didn't take it into his head to send this gentleman to talk to Margaritis!"
"The devil! he's keen, the old fellow! I've made a mistake," thought Gaudissart, "I must catch him with other chaff. I'll try humbug No. 1. Not at all," he said aloud, "for you who " "Will you take a glass of wine?" asked Margaritis. "With pleasure," replied Gaudissart. "Wife, give us a bottle of the wine that is in the puncheons.
He was of Italian origin, married, but childless; and his wife took care of him with a courage fully appreciated by the neighborhood. Madame Margaritis was undoubtedly in real danger from a man who, among other fancies, persisted in carrying about with him two long-bladed knives with which he sometimes threatened her.
"I mean people who are rough-shod on political and financial ideas." "Whom have you seen? if I may ask without indiscretion," said the landlord innocently, expectorating after the adroit and periodical fashion of smokers. "A fine, energetic fellow named Margaritis." Mitouflet cast two glances in succession at his guest which were expressive of chilling irony. "May be; the good-man knows a deal.
You, who have understood the whole question of insurance so thoroughly, and who are willing to assist my work in this district " "Yes," said Margaritis, "if " "If I take your wine; I understand perfectly. Your wine is very good, Monsieur; it puts the stomach in a glow." "They make champagne out of it; there is a man from Paris who comes here and makes it in Tours."
When he returned, singing and whistling on the stairs for joy, he was met by Tina, who to his astonishment was quite pale, and he saw at a glance that something had happened. "They've put me off!" he said. "Or it was a mistake. I knew it was too good to be true." "It's not that," said Tina, "it's Carlo!" Carlo was their little boy, who was nearly four years old. "What?" said Margaritis.
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