th moral and physical predominance
of the maternal grandfather.' Nothing can be clearer. Your mother has
predominated in you; you have her fine intelligence, and you have
also something of her coquetry, at times of her indolence and of her
submissiveness. Yes, you are very feminine, like her. Without your being
aware of it, I would say that you love to be loved. Besides, your mother
was a great novel reader, an imaginative being who loved to spend whole
days dreaming over a book; she doted on nursery tales, had her fortune
told by cards, consulted clairvoyants; and I have always thought that
your concern about spiritual matters, your anxiety about the unknown,
came from that source. But what completed your character by giving you a
dual nature, was the influence of your grandfather, Commandant Sicardot.
I knew him; he was not a genius, but he had at least a great deal
of uprightness and energy. Frankly, if it were not for him, I do not
believe that you would be worth much, for the other influences
are hardly good. He has given you the best part of your nature,
combativeness, pride, and frankness."

She had listened to him with attention. She nodded slightly, to signify
that it was indeed so, that she was not offended, although her lips
trembled visibly at these new details regarding her people and her
mother.

"Well," she resumed, "and you, master?"

This time he did not hesitate.

"Oh, I!" he cried, "what is the use of speaking of me? I do not belong
to the family. You see what is written here. 'Pascal, born in 1813.
Individual variation. Combination in which the physical and moral
characters of the parents are blended, without any of their traits
seeming to appear in the new being.' My mother has told me often enough
that I did not belong to it, that in truth she did not know where I
could have come from."

Those words came from him like a cry of relief, of involuntary joy.

"And the people make no mistake in the matter. Have you ever heard
me called Pascal Rougon in the town? No; people always say simply Dr.
Pascal. It is because I stand apart. And it may not be very affectionate
to feel so, but I am delighted at it, for there are in truth
inheritances too heavy to bear. It is of no use that I love them all.
My heart beats none the less joyously when I feel myself another being,
different from them, without any community with them. Not to be of them,
my God! not to be of them! It is a breath of pure air; it is