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Updated: June 3, 2025
A species of jealous frenzy was blended with the feverish desire that Marianne's kiss had injected into Rosas's veins. He would have liked to know the truth, to see Marianne again, to urge Guy to further confidences. And, then, he felt that he would rather not have come, not have seen her again, not have gone to Sabine's. "Well, so be it! Lord Lindsay is right, I will go."
He brought him a blue envelope on a card-tray. "A telegram for monsieur le duc." Rosas tore it open in a mechanical way. It was from one of his London friends, Lord Lindsay, who having learned of Rosas's return, sent him a pressing invitation. If he did not hasten to Paris to welcome him, it was simply because grave political affairs demanded his presence in London.
In this atmosphere of flattery, oppressive as with the heavy odor of incense, she experienced a sensation of omnipotence, the intoxication of that power with which Vaudrey was invested, whose envied reflection was cast on her by that simple aside spoken in the midst of the crowd. She was delighted and exceedingly proud. She almost forgot that her visit had been made on Rosas's account.
Rosas listened open-mouthed, his ears tingling and his blood rushing to his temples, while he sunk his fingers into Marianne's arms, she, meanwhile, glaring at Gochard. When he had finished, she disengaged herself from Rosas's clutch by an extreme effort, and ran to the rascal and spat in his face. He lifted his hand to her and said: "Ah! but! "Begone!" said the duke. "You wish to be paid?"
General Rosas's plan is to kill all stragglers, and having driven the remainder to a common point, to attack them in a body, in the summer, with the assistance of the Chilenos. This operation is to be repeated for three successive years.
They parted after exchanging almost an ordinary grasp of the hand, though, perhaps, somewhat sad. Sulpice wished to cast a last look at Rosas's box. Marianne was standing, her outline clearly defined against the brightly-lighted background of the box. She was holding a saucer in her hand, eating an ice.
A large army composed of Argentines, Brazilians, and Uruguayans, under the joint command of the Brazilian Marquis de Caxias and General Urquiza, crossed the Paraná River, invaded the province of Buenos Aires, defeated Rosas's troops, and advanced on the capital. On February 3, 1852, the fateful Battle of Caseros was fought, rather less than ten miles from the town of Buenos Aires.
Since she had to reply to Vaudrey, she would write him. She felt an ardent desire to avenge herself for Rosas's treatment, as if he ought to suffer therefor, as if he were about to know that Sulpice loved her. Had she found the duke awaiting her, as she entered the house, she would have been quite capable of lashing his face with a whip, while making the lying confession: "Ah! you here?
His individuality, his own impressions vanished before this passionate legacy bequeathed by one human race to another. Marianne trembled, believing that she could see even in Rosas's thoughts a desire to speak especially for her and to her. Was it not thus that he spoke in his own house in the presence of Lissac, squatting on his divan like an Arab story-teller?
"Marianne?" repeated Lissac, who perfectly understood the question from De Rosas's hesitation. "My dear friend, when a man feels sufficiently anxious, or sufficiently weak, or sufficiently smitten, whichever you please, to stake his life on the throw of the dice, he is permitted to put one of those misplaced questions to which I have just referred.
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