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Updated: May 24, 2025
By this trifling act Cesar would have wounded irretrievably any other man than little Popinot. The Sunday dinner at the Ragon's was destined to be the last pleasure of the nineteen happy years of the Birotteau household, years of happiness that were full to overflowing.
"Ministers are a mere necessity of government. Ah! what am I eating? ambrosia?" said Claparon, breaking off. "This is a sauce you'll never find except at a tradesman's table, for the pot-houses " Here the flowers in Madame Ragon's cap skipped like young rams. Claparon perceived the word was low, and tried to catch himself up. "In bank circles," he said, "we call the best cafes.
She left the room hastily and went to Madame Ragon's bedchamber. Cesar during the dinner had make various fatuous remarks, which caused the judge and Pillerault to smile, and reminded the unhappy woman of how unfitted her poor husband was to grapple with misfortune.
The two men looked a moment in each other's face, and Sandy saw in Ragon's something that made him say, "She'll pat Sandy safe ta night, an' that will mak her shure o' ta lass she's seeking far." There was no time for parley; Ragon's evil nature was strongest, and he answered, "There is a cellar below my house, thou knows it weel."
"What a capable head!" said Birotteau, laying his hand on little Popinot's thick hair and rubbing it about as if he were a baby. "I found it out." Several persons here came in. "On Sunday we dine at your aunt Ragon's," added Cesar, leaving Popinot to go on with his business, for he perceived that the fresh meat he had come to taste was not yet cut up. "It is amazing!
Indeed, most of the houses in Stromness had underground passages, and places of concealment used for smuggling purposes, and Ragon's lonely house was a favorite rendezvous. The vessel whose arrival he had been going to inform Peter of was a craft not likely to come into Stromness with all her cargo.
As soon as Peter told the young Norse sailor of John's offer for Margaret's hand, Ragon's passive good-will turned to active dislike and bitter jealousy. For, though he had taken little trouble to please Margaret, he had come to look upon her as his future wife. He knew that Peter wished it so, and he now imagined that it was also the only thing on earth he cared for.
"Business has given him little education," whispered Madame Ragon to Cesarine. Monsieur Roguin overheard her, and put a finger on his lips: "He is rich, clever, and extremely honorable," he said, stooping to Madame Ragon's ear. "Something may be forgiven in consideration of such qualities," said Pillerault to Ragon. "Let us read the deeds before dinner," said Roguin; "we are all alone."
Christine had listened sympathizingly to his trouble about Margaret, and said, "Thou wait an' trust; John dear, an' at the end a' things will be well." Even Ragon's ill-will and Peter's ill words had not greatly frightened them "The wrath o' man shall praise Him," read old Alison, with just a touch of spiritual satisfaction, "an' the rest o' the wrath he will restrain."
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