"
Mme. de Beauseant turned to Rastignac. "What was the blunder that you
made, monsieur?" she asked. "The poor boy is only just launched into
the world, Antoinette, so that he understands nothing of all this that
we are speaking of. Be merciful to him, and let us finish our talk
to-morrow. Everything will be announced to-morrow, you know, and your
kind informal communication can be accompanied by official
confirmation."
The Duchess gave Eugene one of those insolent glances that measure a
man from head to foot, and leave him crushed and annihilated.
"Madame, I have unwittingly plunged a dagger into Mme. de Restaud's
heart; unwittingly--therein lies my offence," said the student of law,
whose keen brain had served him sufficiently well, for he had detected
the biting epigrams that lurked beneath this friendly talk. "You
continue to receive, possibly you fear, those who know the amount of
pain that they deliberately inflict; but a clumsy blunderer who has no
idea how deeply he wounds is looked upon as a fool who does not know
how to make use of his opportunities, and every one despises him."
Mme. de Beauseant gave the student a glance, one of those glances in
which a great soul can mingle dignity and gratitude.
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