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Updated: May 6, 2025
Their lives are so bound up with mine that I felt somehow that you would see them this evening. Great Heaven! If any man would make my little Delphine as happy as a wife is when she is loved, I would black his boots and run on his errands. That miserable M. de Marsay is a cur; I know all about him from her maid. A longing to wring his neck comes over me now and then.
Perhaps he counted, moreover, on his power and his capacity of a man used to adventures, to dominate this girl a few hours later and learn all her secrets. "Well," said she, "let me arrange you as I would like." Paquita went joyously and took from one of the two chests a robe of red velvet, in which she dressed De Marsay, then adorned his head with a woman's bonnet and wrapped a shawl round him.
"We will digest our dinner at the Opera, and afterwards I will take you to a house where several people have the greatest wish to meet you." The Vidame gave a delightful little dinner at the Rocher de Cancale; three guests only were asked to meet Victurnien de Marsay, Rastignac, and Blondet.
At the first glance, then, it is natural to consider as very distinct the two sorts of young men who lead the life of elegance, the amiable corporation to which Henri de Marsay belonged. But the observer, who goes beyond the superficial aspect of things, is soon convinced that the difference is purely moral, and that nothing is so deceptive as this pretty outside.
The Marquise was a woman; she had calculated her vengeance with that perfection of perfidy which distinguishes the weaker animals. She had dissimulated her anger in order to assure herself of the crime before she punished it. "Too late, my beloved!" said Paquita, in her death agony, casting her pale eyes upon De Marsay. The girl of the golden eyes expired in a bath of blood.
I became such a monster at a very early age, thanks to a woman." "I fancied," said Madame de Montcornet with a smile, "that more politicians were undone by us than we could make." "The monster of which I speak is a monster just because he withstands you," replied de Marsay, with a little ironical bow.
The rays reflected on the walls gave a warm atmosphere to the little space, which was fragrant with flowers, the gift of the marquise. "We shall soon lose de Marsay," said the marquise; "and with him will disappear your last hope of fortune for your son. Ever since you played him that clever trick, he has returned to his affection for you."
Nobody in the house could have believed that she had debts which reached the sum total mentioned by de Marsay that very morning. No single one of the cares of earth had touched that sublime forehead of hers, full of woman's pride of the highest kind. In her, a pensive air seemed to be some gleam of an earthly love, nobly extinguished.
About noon De Marsay awoke and stretched himself; he felt the grip of that sort of voracious hunger which old soldiers can remember having experienced on the morrow of victory. He was delighted, therefore, to see Paul de Manerville standing in front of him, for at such a time nothing is more agreeable than to eat in company.
He felt that it was a necessity to have horses and fine carriages, and all the accessories of modern luxury; he felt, in short, "that a man must keep abreast of the times," as de Marsay said de Marsay, the first dandy that he came across in the first drawing-room to which he was introduced.
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