"She is going to discuss my quarrel
with Celestine and Victorin, no doubt; but I will not give way!"
As he went into the drawing-room, shown in by Louise, he said to
himself as he noted the bareness of the place (Crevel's word):
"Poor woman! She lives here like some fine picture stowed in a loft by
a man who knows nothing of painting."
Crevel, seeing Comte Popinot, the Minister of Commerce, buy pictures
and statues, wanted also to figure as a Maecenas of Paris, whose love
of Art consists in making good investments.
Adeline smiled graciously at Crevel, pointing to a chair facing her.
"Here I am, fair lady, at your command," said Crevel.
Monsieur the Mayor, a political personage, now wore black broadcloth.
His face, at the top of this solemn suit, shone like a full moon
rising above a mass of dark clouds. His shirt, buttoned with three
large pearls worth five hundred francs apiece, gave a great idea of
his thoracic capacity, and he was apt to say, "In me you see the
coming athlete of the tribune!" His enormous vulgar hands were encased
in yellow gloves even in the morning; his patent leather boots spoke
of the chocolate-colored coupe with one horse in which he drove.
In the course of three years ambition had altered Crevel's
pretensions.
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