"Ah! yes,
Dauvergne the senator for Dijon--but he's altogether ignorant of
University matters, he hasn't the slightest qualification."
"Well, as for that," resumed Fonsegue, "I'm trying to think. Dauvergne is
certainly a good-looking fellow, tall and fair and decorative. Besides,
he's immensely rich, has a most charming young wife--which does no harm,
on the contrary--and he gives real /fetes/ at his place on the Boulevard
St. Germain."
It was only with hesitation that Fonsegue himself had ventured to suggest
Dauvergne. But by degrees his selection appeared to him a real "find."
"Wait a bit! I recollect now that in his young days Dauvergne wrote a
comedy, a one act comedy in verse, and had it performed at Dijon. And
Dijon's a literary town, you know, so that piece of his sets a little
perfume of 'Belles-Lettres' around him. And then, too, he left Dijon
twenty years ago, and is a most determined Parisian, frequenting every
sphere of society. Dauvergne will do whatever one desires. He's the man
for us, I tell you."
Duvillard thereupon declared that he knew him, and considered him a very
decent fellow. Besides, he or another, it mattered nothing!
"Dauvergne, Dauvergne," repeated Monferrand. "/Mon Dieu/, yes! After all,
why not? He'll perhaps make a very good minister. Let us say Dauvergne.
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