Little Henri looked more innocent than any of the little girls.
Victorine had a friend whom she deemed most happy; this was Jules
Claretie's mother, for, young though her son was, he wrote in the
papers, wrote books, too, and earned money, so that he was able to
maintain his mother altogether. He was a young man who ought to be held
in high estimation, an author who was all that he should be. There was
another author whom she detested, and that was P.L. Moeller, the Dane:
"Jacques, as you know, was always a faithful friend of Monsieur Moeller;
he copied out a whole book for him, [Footnote: _The Modern Drama in
France and Denmark_, which won the University Gold Medal for Moeller.]
when he himself was very busy. But then when Jacques died--_pauvre
homme!_--he came and paid visits much too often and always at more and
more extraordinary times, so that I was obliged to forbid him the house."
X.
In a students' hotel near the Odeon, where a few Scandinavians lived, I
became acquainted with two or three young lawyers and more young abbes
and priests. If you went in when the company were at table in the dining
room, the place rang again with their noisy altercations. The advocates
discussed politics, literature and religion with such ardour that the
air positively crackled.
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