On being ushered into Constance's little yellow salon, Mathieu found her
taking a cup of tea with Madame Angelin, who had come back with her from
the Rue de Miromesnil. Beauchene's unexpected arrival on the scene had
disagreeably interrupted their private converse. He had returned from one
of the debauches in which he so frequently indulged under the pretext of
making a short business journey, and, still slightly intoxicated, with
feverish, sunken eyes and clammy tongue, he was wearying the two women
with his impudent, noisy falsehoods.
"Ah! my dear fellow!" he exclaimed on seeing Mathieu, "I was just telling
the ladies of my return from Amiens--. What wonderful duck pates they
have there!"
Then, on Mathieu speaking to him of Blaise, he launched out into
protestations of friendship. It was understood, the young fellow need
only present himself at the works, and in the first instance he should be
put with Morange, in order that he might learn something of the business
mechanism of the establishment. Thus talking, Beauchene puffed and
coughed and spat, exhaling meantime the odor of tobacco, alcohol, and
musk, which he always brought back from his "sprees," while his wife
smiled affectionately before the others as was her wont, but directed at
him glances full of despair and disgust whenever Madame Angelin turned
her head.
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