always waited for the minister's return from the Chamber, if in
session, to hear from him what intrigue or manoeuvre he was to set
about. This official sybarite dressed, dined, and visited a dozen or
fifteen salons between eight at night and three in the morning. At the
opera he talked with journalists, for he stood high in their favor; a
perpetual exchange of little services went on between them; he poured
into their ears his misleading news and swallowed theirs; he prevented
them from attacking this or that minister on such or such a matter, on
the plea that it would cause real pain to their wives or their
mistresses.

"Say that his bill is worth nothing, and prove it if you can, but do
not say that Mariette danced badly. The devil! haven't we all played
our little plays; and which of us knows what will become of him in
times like these? You may be minister yourself to-morrow, you who are
spicing the cakes of the 'Constitutionel' to-day."

Sometimes, in return, he helped editors, or got rid of obstacles to
the performances of some play; gave gratuities and good dinners at the
right moment, or promised his services to bring some affair to a happy
conclusion. Moreover, he really liked literature and the arts; he
collected autographs, obtained splendid albums gratis, and possessed
sketches, engravings, and pictures. He did a great deal of good to
artists by simply not injuring them and by furthering their wishes on
certain occasions when their self-love wanted some rather costly
gratification. Consequently, he was much liked in the world of actors
and actresses, journalists and artists. For one thing, they had the
same vices and the same indolence as himself. Men who could all say
such witty things in their cups or in company with a danseuse, how
could they help being friends? If des Lupeaulx had not been a