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Updated: May 24, 2025
She had insisted on exchanging miniatures; they had cut handfuls of hair, and now she was asking for a ring a real wedding-ring, in sign of an eternal union. She often spoke to him of the evening chimes, of the voices of nature. Then she talked to him of her mother hers! and of his mother his! Rodolphe had lost his twenty years ago.
It would have been too stupid." No sooner was Rodolphe at home than he sat down quickly at his bureau under the stag's head that hung as a trophy on the wall. But when he had the pen between his fingers, he could think of nothing, so that, resting on his elbows, he began to reflect.
"He blew out the light. "'Have you your pistols? "'Why? "'Why, to defend yourself, replied Emma. "'From your husband? Oh, poor devil!" And Rodolphe finished his phrase with a gesture which signified: I could crush him with a fillip. She was amazed at his bravery, although she felt that there was a sort of indelicacy and naïve grossness about it that was scandalizing.
Neither of the brothers cared for music, and Rodolphe, in imitation of his uncle, affected to despise it. Chafing against Jean-Christophe's authority and lectures for he took himself very seriously as the head of the family the two boys had tried to rebel; but Jean-Christophe, who had lusty fists and the consciousness of right, sent them packing.
Olivier stayed until the next morning, when Louisa was buried. Christophe's brother, Rodolphe, the business man, came by one train and left by the next. That important personage followed the funeral very correctly, and went immediately it was over, without addressing a single word to Olivier, either to ask him for news of his brother or to thank him for what he had done for their mother.
That evening Rodolphe found her more serious than usual. "That will pass over," he concluded; "it's a whim." And he missed three rendezvous running. When he did come, she showed herself cold and almost contemptuous. "Ah! you're losing your time, my lady!" And he pretended not to notice her melancholy sighs, nor the handkerchief she took out. Then Emma repented.
The character of his companion, whom we will call Rodolphe, presented a strong contrast with Leopold's, and their antagonism had no doubt had the result of tightening the bond that united them. Rodolphe was the natural son of a man of rank, who was carried off by a premature death before he could make any arrangements for securing the means of existence to a woman he fondly loved and to Rodolphe.
You never loved me. You are no better than the others." She was betraying, ruining herself. Rodolphe interrupted her, declaring he was "hard up" himself. "Ah! I pity you," said Emma. "Yes very much." And fixing her eyes upon an embossed carabine, that shone against its panoply, "But when one is so poor one doesn't have silver on the butt of one's gun.
Francesca said a word to Gina, who gave Rodolphe her arm as far as the Stopfers' door, and fled like a swallow as soon as she had rung. "These patriots do not play at killing!" said Rodolphe to himself as he felt his sufferings when he found himself in his bed. "'Nel lago! Gina would have pitched me into the lake with a stone tied to my neck."
When the habit was ready, Charles wrote to Monsieur Boulanger that his wife was at his command, and that they counted on his good-nature. The next day at noon Rodolphe appeared at Charles's door with two saddle-horses. One had pink rosettes at his ears and a deerskin side-saddle. Rodolphe had put on high soft boots, saying to himself that no doubt she had never seen anything like them.
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