de Fondege" on
his visiting cards. The nickname had had a decisive influence on
his life. He had endeavored to show himself worthy of it, and the
manners he had at first assumed, eventually became natural ones.
He seemed to be the conventional old soldier--irascible and jovial
at the same time; brusk and kind; at once frank, sensible and
brutal; as simple as a child, and yet as true as steel. He swore
the most tremendous oaths in a deep bass voice, and whenever he
talked his arms revolved like the sails of a windmill. However,
Madame de Fondege, who was a very angular lady, with a sharp nose
and very thin lips, assured people that her husband was not so
terrible as he appeared. He was not considered very shrewd, and
he pretended to have an intense dislike for business matters. No
one knew anything precise about his fortune, but he had a great
many friends who invited him to dinner, and they all declared that
he was in very comfortable circumstances.
On entering the study this worthy man did not pay the slightest
attention to the Marquis de Valorsay, although they were intimate
friends. He walked straight up to Mademoiselle Marguerite, caught
her in his long arms, and pressed her to his heart, brushing her
face with his huge mustaches as he pretended to kiss her.
"Courage, my dear," he growled; "courage. Don't give way. Follow
my example. Look at me!" So saying he stepped back, and it was
really amusing to see the extraordinary effort he made to combine
a soldier's stoicism with a friend's sorrow.
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