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Updated: June 7, 2025
"At any rate the truth must be discovered, and it was that which kept Monsieur de Sallenauve from accompanying Monsieur Gaston to Ville d'Avray." "Well," remarked Monsieur de l'Estorade, "in spite of their respective virtue, it is my opinion he holds by her." "In any case," returned Madame de l'Estorade, emphasizing the word, "she does not hold by him."
He was too wrought up about his work. Going out did him good; and yet he met with a rather unpleasant surprise at Rastignac's." "What was it?" asked Madame de l'Estorade, anxiously. "It seems that the affairs of your friend Sallenauve are going wrong." "Thanks for the commission!" said Monsieur de l'Estorade, returning the letter to his wife.
But this confidence does not concern myself alone; I should have to request that it remain absolutely between ourselves, not even excepting Monsieur de l'Estorade from this restriction. A secret is never safe beyond the person who confides it, and the person who hears it." I was much puzzled, as you can well suppose, about what might follow; still, continuing my explorations, I replied:
"Monsieur de Sallenauve is thirty, and Nais will soon be fourteen; that is precisely the difference between you and Monsieur de l'Estorade." "Well, you may be right," said Madame de l'Estorade, "and the sort of marriage I made from reason Nais may want to make from folly. But you needn't be afraid; I will ruin that idol in her estimation."
The Scottish youth, furious, flung himself upon the treacherous French boy; on which Monsieur de l'Estorade, a thousand leagues from imagining the subject of the quarrel, intervened and parted the combatants, which enabled the ravisher to escape into a corner of the salon to enjoy his booty. The note contained no writing.
"My dear," she said to her husband, when Monsieur de Camps had delivered himself of his medical opinion, "as you return from Monsieur de Rastignac's, please call on Doctor Bianchon and ask him to come here." "Pooh!" said Monsieur de l'Estorade, shrugging his shoulders, "the idea of disturbing a busy man like him for what you yourself said was a mere nothing!"
Not only had it disappeared, but he detected a movement which assured him that Madame de l'Estorade had tucked it away in that part of her gown where Louis XIV. did not dare to search for the secrets of Mademoiselle d'Hautefort. "I have come, my dear friend," said Monsieur de Camps, "to get you to go with me to Rastignac's, as agreed on last night."
Madame de l'Estorade despised the spirit of intrigue, the total lack of principle, and the sour, malevolent nature which the marquise covered with an elegant exterior; and the marquise despised, to a still greater degree, what she called the pot-au-feu virtues of Madame de l'Estorade.
From the moment that Rastignac hinted to him that his intercourse with the sculptor, now deputy, might injure him at court, he had agreed with his son Armand that the artist had given to Madame de l'Estorade the air of a grisette; but now that Sallenauve, by his resistance to ministerial blandishments, had taken an openly hostile attitude to the government, that bust seemed to the peer of France no longer worthy of exhibition, and the worthy man was now engaged in finding some dark corner where, without recourse to the absurdity of actually hiding it, it would be out of range to the eyes of visitors, whose questions as to its maker he should no longer be forced to answer.
"But if you account for the change in his appearance in that way, why look for symptoms of something wrong with his liver?" "Ah! this is not the first time I have seen symptoms of that," replied Madame de l'Estorade. "But you know when sick people don't complain, we forget about their illness.
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