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Updated: September 2, 2025
"It is not very amusing," said the Princess; "but that is not your fault. Your anarchists are as timid and moderate as other Frenchmen. The Russians have more audacity and more imagination." Countess Martin asked Paul Vence whether he knew a silent, timid-looking man among the guests. Her husband had invited him. She knew nothing of him, not even his name.
Madame Marmet had dined often with the author, a young and very amiable man. Paul Vence thought the book tiresome. "Oh," sighed Madame Martin, "all books are tiresome. But men are more tiresome than books, and they are more exacting." Madame Marmet said that her husband, who had much literary taste, had retained, until the end of his days, a horror of naturalism.
At the two semicircles, whereby the dinner-table was prolonged, were M. Montessuy, robust, with blue eyes and ruddy complexion; a young cousin, Madame Belleme de Saint-Nom, embarrassed by her long, thin arms; the painter Duviquet; M. Daniel Salomon; then Paul Vence and Garain the deputy; Belleme de Saint-Nom; an unknown senator; and Dechartre, who was dining at the house for the first time.
Garain, who did not like Paul Vence's ingenious turn of wit and language, tried to hasten the conclusion: "In a word," he said, "there was something of the monster in the man." "There are no monsters," replied Paul Vence; "and men who pass for monsters inspire horror. Napoleon was loved by an entire people. He had the power to win the love of men. The joy of his soldiers was to die for him."
Either because she liked Madame Martin, or because she knew how to give discreet marks of preference in every house she went, she warmed herself contentedly, like a relative, in a corner of the Louis XVI chimney, which suited her beauty. She lacked only her dog. "How is Toby?" asked Madame Martin. "Monsieur Vence, do you know Toby? He has long silky hair and a lovely little black nose."
"Then," exclaimed Madame Martin, "I will take him to Italy with me. Find him, Monsieur Vence, and bring him to me. I am going next week." M. Martin then excused himself, not being able to remain longer. He had to finish a report which was to be laid before the Chamber the next day. Madame Martin said that nobody interested her so much as Choulette.
But since Choulette interests you, listen to his latest adventure. Paul Vence related it to me. I understand it better in this street, where there are shirts and flowerpots at the windows.
She made a sign to Paul Vence who was near her: "Do you not think Madame Martin is extraordinarily beautiful this year?" In the lobby, full of light and gold, General de La Briche asked Lariviere: "Did you see my nephew?" "Your nephew, Le Menil?" "Yes Robert. He was in the theatre a moment ago." La Briche remained pensive for a moment. Then he said: "He came this summer to Semanville.
She made a sign to Paul Vence who was near her: "Do you not think Madame Martin is extraordinarily beautiful this year?" In the lobby, full of light and gold, General de La Briche asked Lariviere: "Did you see my nephew?" "Your nephew, Le Menil?" "Yes Robert. He was in the theatre a moment ago." La Briche remained pensive for a moment. Then he said: "He came this summer to Semanville.
An old lady, wearing with modest dignity her crown of white hair, and a little vivacious man with shrewd eyes, came in suddenly Madame Marmet and M. Paul Vence. Then, carrying himself very stiffly, with a square monocle in his eye, appeared M. Daniel Salomon, the arbiter of elegance. The General hurried out. They talked of the novel of the week.
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