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She read: "The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious name inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed by the Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny." These few lines made Madame Desvarennes's blood boil. Her ears tingled as if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together. In a rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming.
She always met him with the same smile on her lips. And then happiness agreed with her too well; she was growing stout. One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the Baron de Prefont, a hardened 'roue'. He had not seen him since his marriage. It was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to each other. And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
She read: "The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious name inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed by the Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny." These few lines made Madame Desvarennes's blood boil. Her ears tingled as if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together. In a rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming.
She always met him with the same smile on her lips. And then happiness agreed with her too well; she was growing stout. One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the Baron de Prefont, a hardened 'roue'. He had not seen him since his marriage. It was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to each other. And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
Monsieur Monlinet was a wealthy tradesman, who had just bought the Château de la Varenne, near by. His daughter had been at school with Claire and the Baroness de Préfont, and a bitter warfare was waged incessantly between the juvenile aristocrats and the monied damsels without handles to their names. All recollections of Athénais had faded from Claire's mind, but hatred was still rife in Mlle.
Philippe was relieved to find the Baron de Préfont present; he had read a treatise of his, which delighted the baron, who at once became very friendly, and insisted on visiting the ironworks.
She always met him with the same smile on her lips. And then happiness agreed with her too well; she was growing stout. One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the Baron de Prefont, a hardened 'roue'. He had not seen him since his marriage. It was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to each other. And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale.
"Come to the club," said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm. The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away, and went. He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club, the Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture. The common easy-chairs, covered with dark leather, seemed delightful.
She read: "The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious name inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed by the Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny." These few lines made Madame Desvarennes's blood boil. Her ears tingled as if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together. In a rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming.
"Come to the club," said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm. The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away, and went. He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club, the Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture. The common easy-chairs, covered with dark leather, seemed delightful.
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