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Updated: May 2, 2025
When you were far from me, I felt all the impieties of desire." "I did not suspect this. But do you recall the first time we saw each other, when Paul Vence introduced you? You were seated near a screen. You were looking at the miniatures. You said to me: 'This lady, painted by Siccardi, resembles Andre Chenier's mother. I replied to you: 'She is my husband's great-grandmother.
"Then," said Garain, "according to you, he was not an intellectual genius. I am of your opinion." "Surely," continued Paul Vence, "he had enough genius to be brilliant in the civil and military arena of the world. But he had not speculative genius. That genius is another pair of sleeves, as Buffon says. We have a collection of his writings and speeches. His style has movement and imagination.
"Madame," continued Paul Vence, "I shall not say like Renan, my beloved master: 'What does Sirius care? because somebody would reply with reason 'What does little Earth care for big Sirius? But I am always surprised when people who are adult, and even old, let themselves be deluded by the illusion of power, as if hunger, love, and death, all the ignoble or sublime necessities of life, did not exercise on men an empire too sovereign to leave them anything other than power written on paper and an empire of words.
The General wished to please Garain, and he had no other idea. However, he succeeded, after an effort, in formulating a judgment: "Napoleon committed faults; in his situation he should not have committed any." And he stopped abruptly, very red. Madame Martin asked: "And you, Monsieur Vence, what do you think of Napoleon?"
We might invite Madame Berard de la Malle; there has been no gossip about her for two years. What do you think of it?" "But, my dear, since I am to go next week " This filled him with consternation. They went, both silent and moody, into the drawing-room, where Paul Vence was waiting. He often came in the evening. She extended her hand to him. "I am very glad to see you. I am going out of town.
"At least, Madame," said Paul Vence, "you will go to the balls at the Elysees, and we shall admire the art with which you retain your mysterious charm." "Changes in cabinets," said Madame Martin, "inspire you, Monsieur Vence, with very frivolous reflections."
"I am afraid, Madame, that Monsieur Paul Vence has told you many absurd stories about me. I have heard that he goes about circulating rumors that my ribbon is a bell-rope and of what a bell! I should be pained if anybody believed so wretched a story. My ribbon, Madame, is a symbolical ribbon.
Paul Vence said that he was a singular specimen of humanity. "He is not very different from the saints of whose extraordinary lives we read. He is as sincere as they. He has an exquisite delicacy of sentiment and a terrible violence of mind. If he shocks one by many of his acts, the reason is that he is weaker, less supported, or perhaps less closely observed.
They had just gone out when Jacques Dechartre and Paul Vence came into the box. "I congratulate you, Madame," said Paul Vence. But she turned toward Dechartre: "I hope you have not come to congratulate me, too." Paul Vence asked her if she would move into the apartments of the Ministry. "Oh, no," she replied.
"Madame," continued Paul Vence, "I shall not say like Renan, my beloved master: 'What does Sirius care? because somebody would reply with reason 'What does little Earth care for big Sirius? But I am always surprised when people who are adult, and even old, let themselves be deluded by the illusion of power, as if hunger, love, and death, all the ignoble or sublime necessities of life, did not exercise on men an empire too sovereign to leave them anything other than power written on paper and an empire of words.
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