with a discreet air of patronage, and had a supply of grammars
and dictionaries bought.

At first he gave his lessons with exemplary regularity. He had
taken a liking to these repetitions of nouns and verbs, which he
listened to with a dignified, condescending air, slowly unrolling
his screw of snuff the while; he only interrupted to interject
little playful remarks with a geniality just touched with a trace
of ferocity, that bespoke his real nature as an unctuous, cringing
bully. He was jocular and pompous at the same time, and always
made a pretence of being a long time in seeing the glass of wine
put on the table for his refreshment.

The bookbinder, regarding him as a clever man of ill-regulated
life, always treated him with great consideration, for faults
of behaviour almost cease to shock us except among neighbours,
or at most fellow-countrymen. Without knowing it, Jean found a
fund of amusement in the witticisms and harangues of his old
teacher, who united in himself the contradictory attributes of
high-priest and buffoon. He was great at telling a story, and
though his tales were beyond the child's intelligence, they did
not fail to leave behind a confused impression of recklessness,
irony, and cynicism. Mademoiselle Servien alone never relaxed her
attitude of uncompromising dislike and disdain. She said nothing
against him, but her face was a rigid mask of disapproval, her
eyes two flames of fire, in answer to the courteous greeting
the tutor never failed to offer her with a special roll of his
little grey eyes.

One day the Marquis Tudesco walked into the shop with a staggering