Always
showing a calm and restful face, as though no tempest had ever assailed
his heart, he clung tightly to his mechanical life, like a discreet
maniac, who, though people might not know it, ought, perhaps, to have
been placed under restraint.
At the same time, it should be mentioned that for some few years already
there had been quite a big affair in Morange's life. Although he was
Constance's confidant, although she had made him her creature by the
force of her despotic will, he had gradually conceived the greatest
affection for Denis's daughter, Hortense. As this child grew up, he
fancied that he found in her his own long-mourned daughter, Reine. She
had recently completed her ninth year, and each time that Morange met her
he was thrown into a state of emotion and adoration, the more touching
since it was all a divine illusion on his part, for the two girls in no
wise resembled each other, the one having been extremely dark, and the
other being nearly fair. In spite of his terrible avarice, the accountant
loaded Hortense with dolls and sweetmeats on every possible occasion; and
at last his affection for the child absorbed him to such a degree that
Constance felt offended by it.
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