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The Dujarrier merely retained twenty thousand francs as her commission and handed only eighty thousand to Marianne. "But Vaudrey's acceptance to Gochard is for one hundred thousand!" "You are silly, my girl! What if I lose the balance? If your minister should not pay?" "What do you mean?" "Stranger things have happened, my little one."
The ideal sought was the same, but the temperaments were different. Ramel, although he had known them, had for a long time avoided those excitements of struggle and power that inflamed Vaudrey's blood. "It was a glorious day when my pulse became regulated," he said. "Experience brought me the needed tonic." Denis Ramel was a wise man.
The minister listened with a somewhat anxious, sober air to these truisms, clear-cut as with a knife, expressed by the old journalist without passion, without exasperation, without anger. He was, in fact, pleased that Ramel should speak to him so candidly. Yes, indeed, what the old "veteran," as Denis sometimes called himself said, were Vaudrey's own sentiments.
I work hard I am out of your sight but I applaud all your successes." While Jéliotte was speaking of Vaudrey's successes, he sat on the edge of a chair, staring at his hat, and wagging his jaw as if he were cracking a nut between his frail teeth. "I have been delighted at your getting into the cabinet. Delighted for your sake "
"Ah! pardieu," said Lissac, while Madame Marsy smiled and nodded approval of Vaudrey's words, "you and your colleagues are just now in the honeymoon of your power." "We will endeavor to make this honeymoon of as long duration as possible," laughingly replied Sulpice. "I believe in the case of power, as in marriage, that the coming of the April moon is the fault of the parties connected with it."
With a supplicating cry, Vaudrey threw himself on his knees before Adrienne, while Lissac hastily opened the door and left, feeling indeed that he could not say a word and that Vaudrey only could obtain Vaudrey's pardon. "I, in my anger," he said, "he, in his jealousy, have allowed ourselves to get into a passion. It is stupid. One should speak lower."
She commented thereon, but the somewhat contemptuous smile of her domestics was her only reply and it made her feel ashamed. Vaudrey's predecessor, Monsieur Pichereau, was exacting, close-fisted. His table was meagre but there was nothing astonishing in that, Monsieur Pichereau had a delicate stomach. Well and good, but the predecessors of Monsieur Pichereau, they had given fêtes, they had!
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