Chapter 15 - Page 2
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'Ainsi', he began, abruptly fronting and arresting me, 'vous allez trA³ner comme une reine; demain - trA'ner A mes cA'tA©s? Sans doute vous savourez d'avance les dA©lices de l'autoritA©. Je crois voir un je ne sais quoi de rayonnant, petite ambitieuse!'
Now the fact was, he happened to be entirely mistaken. I did not - could not - estimate the admiration or the good opinion of to-morrow's audience at the same rate as he did. Had that audience numbered as many personal friends and acquaintance for me, as for him, I know not how it might have been: I speak of the case as it stood. On me school triumphs shed but a cold lustre. I had wondered - and I wondered now - how it was that for him they seemed to shine as with hearth warmth and hearth glow. He cared for them perhaps too much; I, probably, too little. However, I had my own fancies as well as he. I liked, for instance, to see M. Emanuel jealous: it lit up his nature, and woke his spirit; it threw all sorts of queer lights and shadows over his dun face, and into his violet azure eyes (he used to say that his black hair and blue eyes were 'une de ses beautA©s'). There was a relish in his anger; it was artless, earnest, quite unreasonable, but never hypocritical. I uttered no disclaimer then of the complacency he attributed to me; I merely asked where the English examination was to come in - whether at the commencement or close of the day?
'I hesitate', said he, 'whether at the very beginning, before many persons are come, and when your aspiring nature will not be gratified by a large audience, or quite at the close, when everybody is tired, and only a jaded and worn-out attention will be at your service.
'Que vous Aªtes dur, monsieur!' I said, affecting dejection.
'One ought to be "dur" with you. You are one of those beings who must be kept down. I know you! I know you! Other people in this house see you pass, and think that a colourless shadow has gone by. As for me, I scrutinised your face once, and it sufficed.'
'You are satisfied that you understand me?'
Without answering directly, he went on, 'Were you not gratified when you succeeded in that vaudeville? I watched you and saw a passionate ardour for triumph in your physiognomy. What fire shot into the glance! Not mere light, but flame: je me tins pour averti.'
'What feeling I had on that occasion, monsieur - and pardon me, if I say, you immensely exaggerate both its quality and quantity - was quite abstract. I did not care for the vaudeville. I hated the
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