They would be heroic sheep, allowing theirthroats
to be cut without a word. But sheseems so to despise her brothers want of
energy!
Mathilde was frequently bored, perhaps she would
have been bored inany circumstances. I have succeeded in preserving thedignity of my
character. For onething, do these people have passions?
I have succeeded in preserving thedignity of my
character.
The letter,which he kept tightly clasped in his
hand, gave him the bearing andpose of a hero.
It seemed to him that she had taken a dislike to
theMarquis de Croisenois.
That love never basely succumbed toobstacles; far
from it, it caused great deeds to be done. I kill or injure him, all thebetter, that
is what they want. Julien was overjoyed, he had not known what to say to her.
Andthat priestly _expression_, he no longer wears it when we have been fora few
moments by ourselves.
In moments of depression: That girl is making a
fool of me, Julienwould think.
In time she becamedeadly to wounded
vanity.
Everything ought to be strange in the lot of agirl
like myself, cried Mathilde, with impatience.
Mathilde thought she had happiness in sight. Think
that this is the sort of letter that I am going toreceive for the rest of my life!
One evening after dinner, Julien, who had gone with M. I am in love, I am in love,
it is quite clear!
For I have heard the Duc de Chaulnes use that term
of me.
What intelligence is required to wield a
sabre?
In these final moments of tormenting doubts, she
was visited by ideasof feminine pride. My father, she went on, has a most natural
regard for the servicesthat you render him.
Julien heard his own name uttereddistinctly twice.
She detected this stratagem a mileoff, and was charmed by it.
In thosedays of strength and prowess, Frenchmen
were not mere dolls.
They must have been less colourless in the days of
the Empire.
Shehad to make up her mind over a desperate idea
which had takenpossession of her. Mathilde had not been immune to the fatal
influence of this idea. He went to sleep,highly delighted with his trick. It was an
exquisite moment for Julien; he roamed about the garden, madwith happiness. She had
found a certain happinessin allowing herself to write to various young men of
fashion. They are afraid of him in his black coat.
My fellow-countryman Granvelle, for instance. She
is plotting with her brother to mystify me. What should I not do with aKing who was
a man of feeling, like Louis XII, sighing at my feet! It is when it is accomplished
that it seemspossible to creatures of common clay.
Julien went on, with the glare of a tiger.