He still had unexpected heartbreakings to experience. People to whom he had promised appointments and decorations came, almost breathless, suddenly stirred by the news, to entreat him to sign the nominations and to prepare the decrees while he was _still_ minister. The ravens were about the corpse. _Monsieur Eugene_, still bowing low, although not quite so low as heretofore, endeavored to dismember Vaudrey the Minister. He wanted a little piece, only one piece! A sub-prefecture of the third class! He had already been informed at the Elysee that Granet was to be his successor. _Parbleu!_ he expected it! But the realization of his fears annoyed him. And who would Granet keep for his Secretary of State? Warcolier, yes Warcolier, with the promise of giving him the first vacant portfolio. "How correct was Ramel's judgment?" thought Sulpice. Vaudrey, with a sort of rage urging him, immediately set himself about a task as mournful as a funeral: packing up. It now seemed to him that he had just suffered a total overthrow. Books and papers were being packed in baskets. Before he was certain of his fall, he thought it was delightful to escape from so much daily bother, but now he felt as if he were being discrowned and ruined. Ruin! It truly threatened him indeed and held him by the throat. He had realized on many pieces of property within the past year for Marianne! Adrienne, on the contrary, left this great cold hotel of Place Beauvau, as if she were leaving a prison, with a comforting sense of deliverance. A bad dream was ended. She could lay down her official mask, weep at ease, complain at will, fly to that Dauphiny where her youth was left. She would leave to-morrow. Doctor Reboux awaited her in ignorance. After having given his first orders and arranged his most important documents, Sulpice went out to walk to Marianne's. At first he wandered along mechanically without realizing that he was going toward the quays, almost fearing the interview with his mistress, now that he was only a defeated man. He had nearly reached the Seine before he was aware of it. He looked at his watch. Eleven o'clock. Marianne had been awaiting him for some time.