("Ho! ho!" thought he, "you can't compromise me. Thank
God, those damned lawyers won't dare to plead any cause that could
smirch me. What do these Listomeres expect to get by crouching in this
way?")
"Monsieur," replied the baroness, "Monsieur Birotteau's affairs are no
more mine than those of Mademoiselle Gamard are yours; but,
unfortunately, religion is injured by such a quarrel, and I come to
you as a mediator--just as I myself am seeking to make peace." ("We
are not decieving each other, Monsieur Troubert," thought she. "Don't
you feel the sarcasm of that answer?")
"Injury to religion, madame!" exclaimed the vicar-general. "Religion
is too lofty for the actions of men to injure." ("My religion is I,"
thought he.) "God makes no mistake in His judgments, madame; I
recognize no tribunal but His."
"Then, monsieur," she replied, "let us endeavor to bring the judgments
of men into harmony with the judgments of God." ("Yes, indeed, your
religion is you.")
The Abbe Troubert suddenly changed his tone.
"Your nephew has been to Paris, I believe." ("You found out about me
there," thought he; "you know now that I can crush you, you who dared
to slight me, and you have come to capitulate.")
"Yes, monsieur; thank you for the interest you take in him. He returns
to-night; the minister, who is very considerate of us, sent for him;
he does not want Monsieur de Listomere to leave the service.
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