Chapter 63 Chapter Thirty-Three Preferential Hell

Julien noticed that the Marquis was furious. Perhaps for the first time in his life, the nobleman forgot about elegance, and he cursed Julien with all his words.Our hero was taken aback, impatient, but unwavering in his gratitude, that the poor man, who had so many good plans in his mind for so long, now saw them crumble in an instant!But I should answer him, my silence will increase his anger.The answer is provided by the character Dardufer. I'm not an angel I do my best for you and I'm grateful for your generosity, but I'm twenty-two in this house and the only ones who understand my thoughts are you and this lovely man

demon!cried the Marquis, lovely!Lovely!The day you think she's cute, you should fuck off. I tried, and then I begged you to let me go to the Languedoc. The Marquis walked up and down angrily, tired and overwhelmed by pain, and sat down on his chair; Julien heard him whisper to himself: This is not a bad man. No, I'm not a bad person to you.cried Julien, and knelt down.However, he felt that this move was extremely shameful, and he quickly stood up again. The Marquis was indeed confused.Seeing him kneeling down, the Marquis began to insult him in every possible way, in a vicious and vulgar way, just like the coachman.The novelty of insulting words may defuse anger.

how!My daughter's name is Mrs. Sorel!how!My daughter is not a duchess!Whenever these two thoughts are presented equally clearly, de.Mr. Larmor was in unbearable pain, and his emotions were out of control.Julien was afraid of being beaten. The Marquis was gradually getting used to his misfortune, and in the intervals of sobriety he also made quite reasonable accusations against Len: You should have gone, sir, he said to him, it is your duty to go, you are the most despicable man Julien approached the table and wrote: Life has been unbearable to me for a long time, and it is time to end it.I ask Monsieur the Marquis to allow me to express my infinite gratitude and to apologize for the trouble I have caused him by dying at the palace.

M. Marquis deign to look at this paper and kill me, said Julien, or let your servant kill me.It's one o'clock in the morning, and I'm out in the garden, walking slowly towards the back wall. To hell with it.roared the Marquis as he left. I understand, thought Julien, that he might be glad to let him kill me if I don't blame his servant for my death, and that's a satisfaction I give him, but, of course, I love life and I have a responsibility to my son. For the first time the thought came to his imagination so clearly that after the first dangerous few minutes of his walk he could think of nothing else.

This concern was so novel that it made him a prudent man, and I had to consult with someone about how to deal with this violent man who was irrational and capable of anything.Fouquet was too far away.Besides, he would not understand the feelings of a man like the Marquis. COUNT OF ALTAMIRA Am I sure that he will remain silent forever?My proposal should not complicate my situation by adding side effects.well!That's the gloomy Abbe Pirard left. Jansenism narrows his mind. A jerk Jesuit who knows the world is more suitable for me. Whenever I speak of this sin, Abbe Pirard beats me. Dartuffe's genius comes again to rescue Julien: well, I'll go and confess to him.This was his final decision after a full two hours of walking in the garden.He no longer thought he might get shot, he was so sleepy.

Early the next morning Julien was a few leagues from Paris to knock at the door of the stern Jansenists.To his great astonishment, he found that the priest was not overly surprised by his confession. I may have something to blame, the priest said to himself, more worried than angry, I believe I have guessed this love affair, my friendship to you, unfortunate child, prevent me from telling her father What will happen to him?asked Julien hastily. (He loves the priest now, and a scolding would be painful for him.) I think there are three possibilities, Julien said, first, de.Mr. La Mole asked me to commit suicide, and he talked about the death letter left to the Marquis: Second, Count Nobel asked me to fight a duel, and I was his target.

Would you accept it?The priest stood up in a rage. You haven't let me finish.I certainly would not shoot my benefactor's son. Third, he might ask me to leave.If he said to me: Go to Edinburgh, go to New York, I will obey, then they can cover up de.Miss Lamour's condition, but I can't bear them getting rid of my son. Doubtless it would be the first thought of the fallen man In Paris, Mathilde fell into despair.She sees her father at seven o'clock in the morning.He showed her Julien's suicide note, and she trembled, lest he think it noble to end his suicide: and without my permission?Pain turned to anger, she thought.

If he dies, I die too, she said to her father, you will be his death You may be happy But I will swear to his ghost, first I will wear mourning, I will publicize my widow Soler Identity, I also want to distribute obituaries, just wait and see, I won't be cowardly. Her love reached a level of insanity.This time it is Germany.Mr. Larmor was dumbfounded. He began to look at what had happened with a little dispassion.At noon, Mathilde did not show up.The Marquis was relieved.Especially he was relieved to find that she hadn't said anything to his mother. Julien dismounted, Mathilde had him called, and threw herself into his arms almost in front of the maids.Julien did not take much notice of her frenzy, for he had grown sophisticated and calculating from his long conversation with the Abbe Pirard.His imagination was smothered by estimates of the possibilities.With tears in her eyes, Mathilde said that she had seen his suicide note.

My father will change his mind, and I beg you to leave immediately for Virquier.Get on the horse and get out of the mansion before they finish eating. Julien's expression was always surprised and cold, and she burst into tears. Let me do our business, she cried excitedly, hugging him tightly, you know I didn't mean to leave you.Write to me, write to my maid, let someone else write the envelope, and I will write you long, long letters.goodbye!run away. This last sentence hurt Julien, but he obeyed. It was fate, he thought, that these people know how to hurt me even at the best of times.

Mathilde resolutely resisted her father's careful plans.There was only one basis for negotiations, and she would not want the rest: she would be Madame Sorel, living in poverty with her husband in Switzerland, or living with her father in Paris.She categorically rejected the suggestion of a secret birth. That would risk starting to slander and insult me.Two months after we got married, my husband and I were traveling, and it was not difficult for us to say that our son was born on a suitable day. Her steadfastness, met at first with fury, at last puzzled the Marquis. Once, his heart softened, and he said to his daughter:

look!Here is a certificate of ten thousand livres annuity, give it to your Julien, let him do it quickly, and don't make me take it back. Julien knew that Mathilde liked to give orders, and in order to obey her, he traveled forty leagues: he settled his accounts with the tenants in Virquier, and the Marquis' favor gave him the opportunity to return. He begged Abbe Pirard to take him in, who had become Mathilde's most useful ally during his absence.Every time the Marquis questioned him, he affirmed that everything other than public marriage was a sin in the sight of God. Fortunately, the priest added, worldly wisdom agrees with religion on this point.De.Miss Lamour was so hot-tempered that she couldn't keep the secret herself. Could anyone else expect the secret to be kept for a moment?If the marriage was not accepted in the light of day, society would be watching this strange shady marriage for a much longer period of time, and it would have to be said all at once, without any apparent or actual secrecy. Indeed, the Marquis was lost in thought. If this was done, if there were still people talking about it three days after the marriage, it would be like gossip of foolish people.The occasion of the government's major anti-Jacobin measures should be used to quietly follow through. De.Two or three friends of M. La Mole thought like the Abbe Pirard, and they believed that the major obstacle was Mathilde's decisive character.However, after hearing so many good opinions, the Marquis's heart could not get used to giving up the hope of letting his daughter sit on a small stool. His memory and imagination were full of all kinds of tricks and deceptions that had been possible in his youth.Yielding to need, fearing the law, he considered absurd and humiliating for a man of his stature.For ten years, he had fantasized and dreamed for this beloved daughter, and now he has paid a high price. Who would have guessed?He said to himself, how could such a thing happen to a girl with such a proud character, such a gift, who was more proud of her name than I was, a girl who had been proposed to by the most eminent family in France a long time ago! All caution should be abandoned.Everything is messed up in this era!We have gone to chaos.