With all her ugliness, however, Felicite possessed a sort of
gracefulness which rendered her seductive. People said of her that she
could be pretty or ugly as she pleased. It would depend on the fashion
in which she tied her magnificent hair; but it depended still more on
the triumphant smile which illumined her golden complexion when she
thought she had got the better of somebody. Born under an evil star,
and believing herself ill-used by fortune, she was generally content
to appear an ugly creature. She did not, however, intend to abandon the
struggle, for she had vowed that she would some day make the whole town
burst with envy, by an insolent display of happiness and luxury. Had
she been able to act her part on a more spacious stage, where full play
would have been allowed her ready wit, she would have quickly brought
her dream to pass. Her intelligence was far superior to that of the
girls of her own station and education. Evil tongues asserted that her
mother, who had died a few years after she was born, had, during the
early period of her married life, been familiar with the Marquis de
Carnavant, a young nobleman of the Saint-Marc quarter. In fact, Felicite
had the hands and feet of a marchioness, and, in this respect, did not
appear to belong to that class of workers from which she was descended.
Her marriage with Pierre Rougon, that semi-peasant, that man of the
Faubourg, whose family was in such bad odour, kept the old quarter in
a state of astonishment for more than a month.
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