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The Ink-Stain, Complete

Chapter 8 JOY AND MADNESS

Word Count: 3657    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

y

nd-especially the last. But now it wants only two mi

a-ta

me

clock, my friend

s Lam

warm. All the world was out and about. Who can stay indoors on May Day? As we neared the Chamber of Deputies, perambulators full of babies in white capes came pouring from all the neighboring st

f it, Fabien, and perhaps is

he is there before us. I have had a feeling

on't s

crowd. Her noble, clear-cut profile stands out against the Gobelin tapestries which frame it with their embroider

he Place de la Concorde, "allow me to present to you the intending successor of

ut in fine weather." The turnstiles were crowded, but at last we got through. We made but one step across the gravel court, the realm of sculpture where antique gods in every posture formed a mythological circle round the modern busts in the central walk. There wa

where is the sketch

e with him aroun

t in a meadow full of flowers. The buzzing remarks of the crowd add to the feeling of intoxication. They distract one's attention before it can settle anywhere, and carry it off to where some group is gathered before a great name, a costly frame, an enormous canvas, or an outrage on taste; twenty men on a gall

t of the picture, with both hands in his overcoat pockets, and his chin sunk in his collar; says nothing, but is quite happy developing an idea which has occurred to him on his way to it; comparing the picture before him with some former work by the same artist which he remembers. His who

by Bonnat, the two "Adorations," by Bouguereau, a landscape o

left the oi

ings slumbered, neglected. Lampron went straight to his works. I should have awarded them the medaille d'honneur; an etching of a

tly lovely; she will make a great mista

r sir; but I shall not

you g

patient, and do not forget to come

romi

pron va

dwork of one of them, and waited. On my left stretched a solitude seldom troubled by the few visitors who risk themselves in the realms o

Stout, exhausted matrons, breathless fathers of families, crowded the sofas, raising discouraged glances to the walls, while around them turned and tripped, u

nt! unless the ceaseless flux of these human phenomena lull you to a trance, what

med disappointed at the unexpected length of the gallery. They looked at each other and whispered. Then both smiled, and turning their backs on each other, they set off, one to the right, the other to the left, to examine the drawings which covered the walls. They made a rapid examinati

o, br

nt again through

at they were

foot, and hid myself far

two this time, but three, and the third was Je

Lampron's sketch, and

ned her head and saw me. The smile died away; she blushed, a tear seemed ready t

my soul, so deep that I

stant some one c

two little girls by t

I too fled, carrying with

ay beyond I saw M. Charnot. A young man was with him, who

othing,

! She lov

y

examiners! Downhearted, worn out by a night of misery, indiffe

ery wretched, but I never thought that I

which I had wrestled all night, than of the ordeal I was about to undergo. I met in the Luxembourg the little girl whom I had kissed the week before. She stopped her hoop and stood in my way, sta

cks, when you are grown a fair woman I trust

and entered the stuffy cou

wn. I avoided them for fear of meeting a friend and having to talk. Several professors came running

sed me up I don't know how many times in his hired gowns, saw that I was downcast, and thought I must be suffering

round me, brushing and encouraging me; doctors of

uillard, never fear. No one has be

t afraid

-imagine, I say, a candidate who knew absolutely nothing. That is nothing extraordinary. But this fellow, after the examination was

s,

so. You don't look like

y one has his bo

llard has some bother. Button up all the way, if you please,

ng of th

struggling with an asthmatic chuckle, until we

against the wall is a raised desk for the candidate. At the end, on a platform before a bookcase, sit the six examiners in red robes, capes with three bands

ad a chance of being br

mouth preparatory to putting the first question, like an epicure sucking a ripe fruit. And when at length he opened it, amid the general silence, it was to c

answer put fresh

ery good; let us carry it a

was examining no longer, he was inventing and intoxicating himself with deductions. No one was right or wrong. We were reasoning about chi

e mark, having exceeded by ten minute

ne. He kept repeating, "It's a serious matter, sir, very serious." But, nevertheless, he bestowed a second white mark on me. I only got half white from the third. The rest of t

nded. Two hou

ile the examiners

ends came

, old man, I bet

ve! I never

ce anybody, you still look bewildered

are

d to return to the examina

, "You have passed. I told you so

ile, and a few kind words for "this conscientious

e was waiting for me in the cou

llard will

ppose

pleased

very l

for your degree, and now you have got it you don't seem to care a bit. You have won a smile from Flamaran and do not conside

here,

her neatly gloved hands? Surely you know, my dear fellow, that

to be m

end you did

yesterday; I met her at the Salo

ai

es

al

the

-look

m-w

friend Dufilleul. Don'

N

arte, studied law in our year, and is always to be

r gi

pity

too

at

py child married

not be t

ambl

is that, t

fer only an assortment of damaged goods! Yes, I do pity girls duped thus, decei

ry males of equal innocence, under the guardianship of virtuous parents, the days of this world

worth

ic

euce h

ame which can

vid

Filleul. A year later he is Baron du Filleul. At the death of his father, an old cad, he becomes Comte du

gh

ill stand you an absinthe, the only beverage

shall g

u don't take your

od-

eels and went down the

y, as I do everything, and missed my chance of speaking. The mute declaration which I risked, or rather which a friend risked for me, found her already en

encouragement, no sign of liking me. If she smiled at St. Germain it was because she was surprised and flattered.

ce in my heart from which no other shall drive her. I shall now set to work to shut this poor heart which did so wrong to open.... I thought to be happy to-night, an

y whole future can be put off till to-morrow, or the day after, unless I get disgusted at the very thought o

y

an out-of-the-way place with an old relative, where he

e, "My dear Monsieur Fabien," and there was balm in the very way she said the words. I used to think she wanted refinement; she does not, she only lacks reading, and lack of reading may go with the most delicate and lofty feelings. No one ever taught her certain turns of expression which she used. "If your mother was alive," said she, "this is what she would say." And then she spoke to me of God, who alone can determinate man's trials,

ame Lampron's, soft

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