Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 1739
‘Call my daughter.’
A second later, the door was opened once more, Made-
moiselle Gillenormand did not enter, but showed herself;
Marius was standing, mute, with pendant arms and the face
of a criminal; M. Gillenormand was pacing back and forth
in the room. He turned to his daughter and said to her:—
‘Nothing. It is Monsieur Marius. Say good day to him.
Monsieur wishes to marry. That’s all. Go away.’
The curt, hoarse sound of the old man’s voice announced
a strange degree of excitement. The aunt gazed at Marius
with a frightened air, hardly appeared to recognize him, did
not allow a gesture or a syllable to escape her, and disap-
peared at her father’s breath more swiftly than a straw before
the hurricane.
In the meantime, Father Gillenormand had returned and
placed his back against the chimney-piece once more.
‘You marry! At one and twenty! You have arranged that!
You have only a permission to ask! a formality. Sit down, sir.
Well, you have had a revolution since I had the honor to see
you last. The Jacobins got the upper hand. You must have
been delighted. Are you not a Republican since you are a
Baron? You can make that agree. The Republic makes a good
sauce for the barony. Are you one of those decorated by July?
Have you taken the Louvre at all, sir? Quite near here, in the
Rue Saint-Antoine, opposite t he Rue des Nona mdieres, t here
is a cannon-ball incrusted in the wall of the third story of a
house with this inscription: ‘July 28th, 1830.’ Go take a look
at that. It produces a good effect. Ah! those friends of yours
do pretty things. By the way, aren’t they erecting a fountain