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The Nabob by Alphonse Daudet
page 44 of 516 (08%)
Prussian fireplace, new also and never yet used for a fire, all forced
into painfully clear evidence beneath the direct light falling from the
glass roof. The drawn face, the scanty beard of the young man, to whom
the bright colour of his eyes, the narrow height of his forehead,
his long and fair hair thrown backward gave the air of a visionary,
everything was accentuated in the crude light; and also the resolute
will in that clear glance which settled upon Jenkins coldly, and in
advance to all his reasonings, to all his protestations, opposed an
invincible resistance.

But the good Jenkins feigned not to perceive anything of this.

"You know, my dear Andre, since the day when I married your mother I
have regarded you as my son. I looked forward to leaving you my practice
and my patients, to putting your foot in a golden stirrup, happy to see
you following a career consecrated to the welfare of humanity. All at
once, without giving any reason, without taking into any consideration
the effect which such a rupture might well have in the eyes of the
world, you have separated yourself from us, you have abandoned your
studies, renounced your future, in order to launch out into I know not
what eccentric life, engaging in a ridiculous trade, the refuge and the
excuse of all unclassed people."

"I follow this occupation in order to earn a living. It is bread and
butter in the meantime."

"In what meantime? While you are waiting for literary glory?"

He glanced disdainfully at the scribbling scattered over the table.

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