The Kill - Emile Zola [136]
Then she burst out laughing and added, “You know what? They ought to have had him play the part of Narcissus. He’d be quite something in apple-green tights!”
The elderly senator had in fact been revived by the sight of Venus and of this voluptuous corner of Olympus. He rolled his delighted eyes and turned partway round to compliment Saccard. In the hubbub that filled the room, the group of serious men continued to discuss business and politics. M. Haffner announced that he had just been named chairman of a jury that was to settle questions of indemnities. The conversation then turned to public works in the capital and in particular on the boulevard du Prince-Eugène, which had begun to attract public notice. Saccard seized the opportunity to speak of someone he knew who owned land that would no doubt be expropriated. He looked the assembled gentlemen in the face. The baron gently shook his head. M. Toutin-Laroche went so far as to say that nothing was more unpleasant than to have one’s property confiscated. M. Michelin nodded approvingly while trying even harder to squint at his decoration.
“The indemnities can never be large enough,” M. de Mareuil sagely concluded in an effort to please Saccard.
The two men had reached an understanding. But now Mignon and Charrier turned the conversation to their own affairs. They intended to retire before too long, probably to Langres, they said, although they would continue to maintain a pied-à-terre in Paris. They made the other men smile by saying that after they had built their splendid mansion on the boulevard Malesherbes, they had found it so beautiful that they hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to sell. The diamonds they were wearing must have been consolation for their loss. Saccard laughed ungraciously. His former partners had just reaped enormous profits from a venture in which he had played the role of dupe. As the intermission wore on, speeches in praise of Venus’ bosom and Echo’s gown interrupted the conversation of the serious men.
More than half an hour later, M. Hupel de la Noue reappeared. He was basking in his success, as the growing disorder of his attire indicated. As he was returning to his place, he encountered M. de Mussy. After shaking his hand in passing, he turned around. “Have you heard the marquise’s witty repartee?” he asked.
And without waiting for Mussy’s answer, he repeated it. His appreciation of the lady’s wit had only increased in the interim. He offered his own commentary, ending with the compliment that the remark was exquisite in its simplicity. “I have a much prettier one underneath.” It was a cry from the heart.
M. de Mussy did not share that opinion, however. He deemed the lady’s remark indecent. He had just been assigned to the embassy in London, and the minister had warned him that sober attire was de rigueur. He now refused to lead the cotillion,7 tried to look older than he was, and no longer spoke of his love for Renée, to whom he bowed gravely whenever they chanced to meet.
As M. Hupel de la Noue rejoined the group that had gathered behind the baron’s chair, the piano struck up a triumphal march. The chords were laid on thick, struck with the fingers vertical on the keys, leading into an expansive melody punctuated at intervals by tinkling metallic sounds. After each phrase, a new voice took up the melody in a higher register, accentuating the beat. The composition was at once aggressive and joyful.
“As you are about to see,” M. Hupel de la Noue murmured. “I may have carried poetic license a bit far, but I believe that my audacity has been rewarded. . . . The nymph Echo, seeing that Venus can do nothing with handsome Narcissus, takes him to Plutus, the god of riches and precious metals. . . . After the temptation of the flesh, the temptation of gold.”
“A stroke