I did not go to the bishop, who had already befriended
me, and might continue to do so: my patroness was not present, and I
feared his reprimands on the subject of our flight; neither did I go
to the seminary; M. Gros was no longer there; in short, I went to none
of my acquaintance. I would gladly have visited the intendant's
lady, but did not dare; I did worse, I sought out M. Venture, whom
(notwithstanding my enthusiasm) I had never thought of since my
departure. I found him quite gay, in high spirits, and the universal
favorite of the ladies of Annecy.
This success completed my infatuation; I saw nothing but M. Venture;
he almost made me forget even Madam de Warrens. That I might profit
more at ease by his instructions and example, I proposed to share
his lodging, to which he readily consented. It was at a shoemaker's; a
pleasant, jovial fellow, who, in his country dialect, called his
wife nothing but trollop; an appellation which she certainly
merited. Venture took care to augment their differences, though
under an appearance of doing the direct contrary, throwing out in a
distant manner, and provincial accent, hints that produced the
utmost effect, and furnished such scenes as were sufficient to make
any one die with laughter. Thus the mornings passed without our
thinking of them; at two or three o'clock we took some refreshment.
Venture then went to his various engagements, where he supped, while I
walked alone, meditating on his great merit, coveting and admiring his
rare talents, and cursing my own unlucky stars, that did not call me
to so happy a life.
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