His Excellency [Son Exc. Eugène Rougon]Zola, Émile
History
His Excellency [Son Exc. Eugène Rougon]
Zola, Émile
France -- History -- Second Empire, 1852-1870 -- Fiction
'Wait a moment, mother!' exclaimed Clorinde, 'I'll give you this couch.
I'll lie down on the bed. I'm not feeling very well. I've got an insect
inside me; and it's begun to bite me again.'
There was a general movement. Pozzo and Madame Correur assisted the
young woman to her bed. They had to turn down the coverings, and
flatten the pillows. Countess Balbi, meantime, lay down on the couch
while Flaminio remained standing behind her, black and silent, though
glaring ferociously at the visitors.
'You don't mind my lying down, do you?' said Clorinde to the others.
'I feel so much better when I'm lying down. I'm not going to send you
away. You must stay where you are.'
She was stretched out at full length, her elbow resting on a pillow,
while her spreading black blouse looked like a stream of ink upon
the white counterpane. Nobody had had any idea of going away. Madame
Correur was talking in a whisper to Pozzo about Clorinde's superb
figure, while M. Kahn, M. Béjuin and the colonel paid their respects
to the Countess, who nodded her head and smiled. Every now and then,
without turning round, she would call in a soft voice: 'Flaminio!'
The tall footman knew what she meant, and at once raised a cushion or
brought a stool, or took a scent bottle from his pocket, retaining,
however, in all he did the ferocious air of a brigand in evening dress.
All at once Auguste happened to have an accident. After prowling
through the three rooms, stopping to examine all the garments that were
lying about, he had felt a little bored, and to amuse himself had begun
to drink glassful after glassful of sugared-water. Clorinde kept her
eye upon him, watching the sugar-basin gradually empty, when suddenly
the youth broke his glass, against the side of which he had been
pressing his spoon too violently.
'It's all because he puts too much sugar in!' cried Clorinde.
'Dunderhead!' exclaimed the colonel. 'You can't even drink water
rationally! One big glassful every morning and every evening, that's
the way. There is nothing better. It keeps away all diseases.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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