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Updated: June 29, 2025
"You go inside, or you'll take cold." Mr. Renault protested, asked about all the residents of Gravois way, and finally obeyed. Eliphalet's heart was in his mouth. A bolder spirit would have dashed for liberty. Eliphalet did not possess that kind of bravery. He was waiting for the Captain to turn toward his wagon. He looked down the area instead, with the light from the street lamp on his face.
A fire was dying on the hearth this gray March afternoon, and flashes of light from a breaking log revealed the faces of Renault and Isabelle, standing on opposite sides of his work table. They had stood like this a long time while the gray day came to an end outside and the trees lashed by the north wind bent and groaned.
"It seems almost as if a voice were speaking in the silence!" "Yes," Renault assented gravely. "There is a voice, and you can hear it up here if you listen." On their way home the two women discussed the doctor eagerly. "I must have seen Dr. Renault somewhere," Isabelle said, "or rather what he might have been once. He's a person!"
Anne Brinsmade was almost the only girl left to him from among his former circle of acquaintances. Miss Carvel's conduct is known. The Misses Russell showed him very plainly that they disapproved of his politics. The hospitable days at that house were over. Miss Catherwood, when they met on the street, pretended not to see him, and Eugenie Renault gave him but a timid nod.
And this Vision was all that really mattered, to see it, to follow where it pointed the way! ... "The waste in life, the wrong steps, the futile years!" she murmured. "Rather the cost, the infinite cost of human souls and their infinite value once born," Renault corrected. "Do not distress yourself about what to do, the claims of this or that.
M. Renault, therefore, wrote to Law to make sure that, in any treaty between the Nawab and the English, an article should be inserted providing for the neutrality of the Ganges; but the French, at present, were needlessly alarmed. The English had no intention of creeping quietly back into the country.
The only thing to do with 'em then is to send them back to suck their poison until it kills." The whimsical tone of irony and invective made Isabelle laugh, and also subtly changed her self-preoccupation. Evidently Dr. Renault was not a Potts to go to with a long story of woe. "I thought it was surgery, your specialty," she remarked, "not nervous prostration."
The deputies sent by Monsieur Renault, the governor of Chandranagore, had been kept waiting from day to day, under one pretence or another; and they now wrote to the governor that they believed that there was no real intention, on the part of the English, to sign an agreement of neutrality with him; and that they would be the next objects of attack.
The dislike, indeed, was chiefly upon Guarine's side; for nothing could be more indifferent to Renault Vidal than was his companion, farther than as he was conscious that Philip loved him not, and was not unlikely, so far as lay in his power, to thwart some plans which he had nearly at heart.
He could add no more; the tears, which ran plentifully down his cheeks, bespoke the feelings of his heart: and, indeed, implied much more than even Cicero with all his powers of oratory could possibly have expressed." This, however, was but a solitary instance; the state of the French was, as a rule, wretched in the extreme, and Renault wrote:
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