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Updated: June 12, 2025
And she thought of leaving her at Fiesole and visiting the churches alone. Employing a word that Le Menil had taught her, she said to herself: "I will 'plant' Madame Marmet." A lithe old man came into the parlor. His waxed moustache and his white imperial made him look like an old soldier; but his glance betrayed, under his glasses, the fine softness of eyes worn by science and voluptuousness.
She lived in the Island of Cos, beside a dell which, covered with lemon-trees, descended to the blue sea. And they say that she looked at the blue waves. I related Phanion's history to Monsieur Le Menil, and he was very glad to hear it. She had received from some hunter a little hare with long ears. She held it on her knees and fed it on spring flowers. It loved Phanion and forgot its mother.
Monsieur Le Menil came to me and did me one of those good turns that one never forgets. He saved me from Monsieur Garain." The General, who knew the Annual Register, and stored away all useful information, pricked up his ears. "Garain," he asked, "the minister who was in the Cabinet when the princes were exiled?" "Himself. I was excessively agreeable to him.
As she finished reading that letter, Therese thought: "A word thrown haphazard has placed him in that condition, a word has made him despairing and mad." She tried to think who might be the wretched fellow who could have talked in that way. She suspected two or three young men whom Le Menil had introduced to her once, warning her not to trust them.
She had against Le Menil the sentiment of simple anger which malicious things cause. She reproached herself bitterly for having permitted her lover to go without a word, without a glance, wherein she could have placed her soul. While Pauline waited to undress her, Therese walked to and fro impatiently. Then she stopped suddenly.
And she thought of leaving her at Fiesole and visiting the churches alone. Employing a word that Le Menil had taught her, she said to herself: "I will 'plant' Madame Marmet." A lithe old man came into the parlor. His waxed moustache and his white imperial made him look like an old soldier; but his glance betrayed, under his glasses, the fine softness of eyes worn by science and voluptuousness.
She yielded, two years later, to Robert Le Menil, who had desired her ardently, with all the warmth of his youth, with all the simplicity of his mind. She said to herself: "I gave myself to him because he loved me." It was the truth. The truth was, also, that a dumb yet powerful instinct had impelled her, and that she had obeyed the hidden impulse of her being.
It is now that I love you. Formerly I did not know." And while she gave to the coachman, haphazard, the address of a tailor, Le Menil went away. The meeting gave her much uneasiness and anxiety. Since she was forced to meet him again, she would have preferred to see him violent and brutal, as he had been at Florence. At the corner of the avenue she said to the coachman: "To the Ternes."
He persisted in trying to flatter her vanity, unable to realize that her mind was not worldly. She replied, negligently, that it might be a pleasant trip. Then he praised the mountains, the ancient cities, the bazaars, the costumes, the armor. He added: "We shall take some friends with us Princess Seniavine, General Lariviere, perhaps Vence or Le Menil."
"My dear sir, I shall shock you, perhaps; but if I had to choose, I should like better to do an immoral thing than a cruel one." A young man, tall, thin, dark, with a long moustache, entered, and bowed with brusque suppleness. "Monsieur Vence, I think that you know Monsieur Le Menil." They had met before at Madame Martin's, and saw each other often at the Fencing Club.
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