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Updated: May 18, 2025
We, for instance I, Claude Vignon; you, Blondet; you, Lousteau; and you, Finot we are all Platos, Aristides, and Catos, Plutarch's men, in short; we are all immaculate; we may wash our hands of all iniquity.
Then, with a gesture of displeasure, he said: "A Vignon ministry! The devil! that would hardly be any better. Those young democrats pretend to be virtuous, and a Vignon ministry wouldn't admit Silviane to the Comedie." This, at first, was his only thought in presence of the crisis which made the political world tremble. And so the deputy could not refrain from referring to his own anxiety.
Two hours later, just when the Baron had been instructing Claude Vignon, whom he was sending to the Ministry of Justice to obtain information as to the judicial authorities under whose jurisdiction Johann Fischer might fall, Reine opened the door of his private room and gave him a note, saying she would wait for the answer. "Valerie is mad!" said the Baron to himself. "To send Reine!
Monsieur and Madame Coquet, after exchanging a few words, left the room, and Claude Vignon, in despair, followed their example. These two departures were a hint to less intelligent persons, who now found that they were not wanted. The Baron and Crevel were left together, and spoke never a word.
Bertha lifted their lids and disclosed the diamonds and emeralds which had been the bridal jewels of Lady Katrine Nugent, Madeleine's great-great-grandmother; the jewels which Madeleine had been forced to part with to obtain herself subsistence; the jewels whose design she had imitated on the dress which first made her "fairy fingers" known to Vignon; the jewels Bertha had recognized when they were worn by Madame de Fleury; the jewels which in attempting to trace to their owner, Maurice had suffered so terribly.
Then, on seeing Vignon who like a cool gamester had made a point of attending the wedding in order to show people that he was superior to fortune the Minister detained him, and made much of him, partly as a matter of tactics, for in spite of everything he could not help fearing that the future might belong to that young fellow, who showed himself so intelligent and cautious.
Vignon betook himself to the Rocher de Cancale to drown memory and thought in a couple of bottles of Bordeaux; Lucien parted company with him on the threshold, declining to share that supper. When he shook hands with the one journalist who had not been hostile to him, it was with a cruel pang in his heart. "What shall I do?" he asked aloud. "One must do as one can," the great critic said.
"Why," said Felicite, as if to break up the discussion, "do young men like my Calyste, begin by loving women of a certain age?" "I don't know any sentiment more artless or more generous," replied Vignon. "It is the natural consequence of the adorable qualities of youth. Besides, how would old women end if it were not for such love?
Young intellects, depraved by arguing for either side, now came into conflict with each other, and fearful axioms of the journalistic jurisprudence, then in its infancy, hurtled to and fro. Claude Vignon, upholding the dignity of criticism, inveighed against the tendency of the smaller newspapers, saying that the writers of personalities lowered themselves in the end.
"How a Government can leave the control of ideas to such a pack of scamps as we are, is matter for perpetual and profound astonishment to me," said Claude Vignon. "If the Ministry blunders so far as to come down into the arena, we can give them a drubbing. If they are nettled by it, the thing will rankle in people's minds, and the Government will lose its hold on the masses.
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