Part 4 (2/2)

At the first lighted lanterns on Rue du Chateau, she would fall from her dream to the pavement.

XIII

Madame Jupillon's face always wore a pleased expression when Germinie appeared; when she kissed her she was very effusive, when she spoke to her her voice was caressing, when she looked at her her glance was most amiable. The huge creature's kind heart seemed, when with her, to abandon itself to the emotion, the affection, the trustfulness of a sort of maternal tenderness. She took Germinie into her confidence as to her business, as to her woman's secrets, as to the most private affairs of her life. She seemed to open her heart to her as to a person of her own blood, whom she desired to make familiar with matters of interest to the family. When she spoke of the future, she always referred to Germinie as one from whom she was never to be separated, and who formed a part of the household. Often she allowed certain discreet, mysterious smiles to escape her, smiles which made it appear that she saw all that was going on and was not angry. Sometimes, too, when her son was sitting by Germinie's side, she would let her eyes, moist with a mother's tears, rest upon them, and would embrace them with a glance that seemed to unite her two children and call down a blessing on their heads.

Without speaking, without ever uttering a word that could be construed as an engagement, without divulging her thoughts or binding herself in any way, and all the time repeating that her son was still very young to think of being married, she encouraged Germinie's hopes and illusions by her whole bearing, her airs of secret indulgence and of complicity, so far as her heart was concerned; by those meaning silences when she seemed to open to her a mother-in-law's arms. And displaying all her talents in the way of hypocrisy, drawing upon her hidden mines of sentiment, her good-natured shrewdness, and the consummate, intricate cunning that fat people possess, the corpulent matron succeeded in vanquis.h.i.+ng Germinie's last resistance by dint of this tacit a.s.surance and promise of marriage; and she finally allowed the young man's ardor to extort from her what she believed that she was giving in advance to the husband.

XIV

As Germinie was going down the servant's staircase one day, she heard Adele's voice calling her over the banister and telling her to bring her two sous' worth of b.u.t.ter and ten of absinthe.

”Oh! you can sit down a minute, you know you can,” said Adele, when she brought her the absinthe and the b.u.t.ter. ”I never see you now, you'll never come in. Come! you have plenty of time to be with your old woman.

For my part, I couldn't live with an Antichrist's face like hers! So stay. This is the house without work to-day. There isn't a sou--madame's abed. Whenever there's no money, she goes to bed, does madame; she stays in bed all day, reading novels. Have some of this?”--And she offered her her gla.s.s of absinthe.--”No? oh! no, you don't drink. You're very foolish. It's a funny thing not to drink. Say, it would be very nice of you to write me a little line for my dearie. Hard work, you know. I have told you about it. See, here's madame's pen--and her paper--it smells good. Are you ready? He's a good fellow, my dear, and no mistake! He's in the butcher line as I told you. Ah! my word! I mustn't rub him the wrong way! When he's had a gla.s.s of blood after killing his beasts, he's like a madman--and if you're obstinate with him--Dame! why then he thumps you! But what would you have? He does that to make him strong. If you could see him thump himself on the breast--blows that would kill an ox, and say: 'That's a wall, that is!' Ah! he's a gentleman, I tell you!

Are you thinking about the letter, eh? Make it one of the fetching kind.

Say nice things to him, you know--and a little sad--he adores that. At the theatre he doesn't like anything that doesn't make him cry. Look here! Imagine that you're writing to a lover of your own.”

Germinie began to write.

”Say, Germinie! Have you heard? Madame's taken a strange idea into her head. It's a funny thing about women like her, who can hold their heads up with the greatest of 'em, who can have everything, hobn.o.b with kings if they choose! And there's nothing to be said--when one is like madame, you know, when one has such a body as that! And then the way they load themselves down with finery, with their tralala of dresses and lace everywhere and everything else--how do you suppose anyone can resist them? And if it isn't a gentleman, if it's someone like us--you can see how much more all that will catch him; a woman in velvet goes to his brain. Yes, my dear, just fancy, here's madame gone daft on that _gamin_ of a Jupillon! That's all we needed to make us die of hunger here!”

Germinie, with her pen in the air over the letter she had begun, looked up at Adele, devouring her with her eyes.

”That brings you to a standstill, doesn't it?” said Adele, sipping her absinthe, her face lighted up with joy at sight of Germinie's discomposed features. ”Oh! it is too absurd, really; but it's true, 'pon my word it's true. She noticed the _gamin_ on the steps of the shop the other day, coming home from the races. She's been there two or three times on the pretence of buying something. She'll probably have some perfumery sent from there--to-morrow, I think.--Bah! it's sickening, isn't it? It's their affair. Well! what about my letter? Is it what I told you that makes you so stupid? You played the prude--I didn't know--Oh! yes, yes, now I remember; that's what it is--What was it you said to me about the little one? I believe you didn't want anyone to touch him! Idiot!”

At a gesture of denial from Germinie, she continued:

”Nonsense, nonsense! What do I care? The kind of a child that, if you blew his nose, milk would come out! Thanks! that's not my style.

However, that's your business. Come, now for my letter, eh?”

Germinie leaned over the sheet of paper. But she was burning up with fever; the quill cracked in her nervous fingers. ”There,” she said, throwing it down after a few seconds, ”I don't know what's the matter with me to-day. I'll write it for you another time.”

”As you like, little one--but I rely on you. Come to-morrow, then.--I'll tell you some of madame's nonsense. We'll have a good laugh at her!”

And, when the door was closed, Adele began to roar with laughter: it had cost her only a little _blague_ to unearth Germinie's secret.

XV

So far as young Jupillon was concerned, love was simply the satisfaction of a certain evil curiosity, which sought, in the knowledge and possession of a woman, the privilege and the pleasure of despising her.

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