He was
especially exasperated against his father, whom he had thought stupid
enough to be a Legitimist, but who revealed himself as a Bonapartist at
the right moment.
"What a lot of folly they have allowed me to perpetrate," he muttered as
he ran along. "I'm a fine fellow now. Ah! what a lesson! Granoux is more
capable than I."
He entered the office of the "Independant" like a hurricane, and
asked for his article in a choking voice. The article had already been
imposed. He had the forme unlocked and would not rest until he had
himself destroyed the setting, mixing the type in a furious manner, like
a set of dominoes. The bookseller who managed the paper looked at him
in amazement. He was, in reality, rather glad of the incident, as the
article had seemed to him somewhat dangerous. But he was absolutely
obliged to have some copy, if the "Independant" was to appear.
"Are you going to give me something else?" he asked.
"Certainly," replied Aristide.
He sat down at the table and began a warm panegyric on the Coup d'Etat.
At the very first line, he swore that Prince Louis had just saved the
Republic; but he had hardly written a page before he stopped and seemed
at a loss how to continue. A troubled look came over his pole-cat face.
"I must go home," he said at last. "I will send you this immediately.
Your paper can appear a little later, if necessary."
He walked slowly on his way home, lost in meditation. He was again
giving way to indecision.
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