cate in the Court of Appeal, and he
entered, bowing ceremoniously to Sulpice, who with a pleased face and
outstretched hands, went to welcome the old companion of his youth.
Jeliotte bowed with a certain affectation of respect, and smiled
nervously.
"How happy I am to see you," Vaudrey said.
"You still address me in the old familiar way," Jeliotte answered,
showing his slightly broken and yellow teeth.
"What an idea! Have I forfeited your good opinion, that I should abandon
our familiar form of address?"
"Honors, then, have not changed you; well! so much the better," said
Jeliotte. "You ask me how I am? Oh! always the same!--I work hard--I am
out of your sight--but I applaud all your successes."
While Jeliotte was speaking of Vaudrey's successes, he sat on the edge
of a chair, staring at his hat, and wagging his jaw as if he were
cracking a nut between his frail teeth.
"I have been delighted at your getting into the cabinet. Delighted for
your sake--"
"You ought also to be delighted on your own account, my good Jeliotte.
Whatever I may hereafter be able to do--"
Jeliotte cut the minister short and said in a tone as dry as tinder:
"Oh! my dear Sulpice, believe one thing,--that I ask you nothing."
"Why?"
"Because--no, nothing. And I repeat, nothing."
"And you would be wrong if I could be friendly to you or useful."
"I have said _nothing_, and I stick to _nothing_. You will meet quite
enough office-seekers in your career--"
"Evidently!"
"Petitioners also!"
"Most assuredly!"
"Well! I am neither a petitioner nor an office-seeker nor a sycophant. I
am your friend."
"And you are right, for I have great affection for you."
"I am your friend and your devoted friend. I should consider it a
rascally thing to ask you for anything. A rascally thing, I say! You are
in office, you are a minister, so much the better, yes, so much the
better! But, at least, don't let your friends pester you, like vermin
crawling before you, because you are all-powerful. I will never crawl
before you, I warn you. I shall remain just what I am. You will take me
just as I am or not at all. That will depend altogether upon the change
of humor that the acquisition of honors may produce in you--"
"Jeliotte! we shall see, Jeliotte!"
"Well! You can take me or leave me. And as I do not wish to be
confounded with the cringing valets who crowd your antechambers--"
"You crowd nothing, you will not dance attendanc
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