Date: 2014-12-18 01:17 am (UTC)
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (You must be joking)
Lesgle's face also registers almost-offense and almost-confusion at Bahorel's first words. He interjects an exasperated Of course not at the question of lying. But he lets Bahorel continue.

When Bahorel is done, he drapes his arms loosely around his folded knees. "I wear an old coat day in and day out. Marius Pontmercy, as I recall, living on much the same income as myself, went to the length of turning an old coat of Courfeyrac's--and then only going out at night, so that he could still be in mourning. Now, you might say that each of us is a poor man and anyone who looks for more than half a second will see it too. But Bahorel, would you haul Pontmercy out into the daylight and tear his old coat off his shoulders just so he could know how very poor he looks?"

He waves a hand. "Pardon me for speaking in parables, when I think we can agree I'm no Jesus. Bahorel, I know you can be gentle. That's all I ask. Of course I don't intend to lie, or to ask you to lie. It's absurd; I'm not that stupid and neither are our friends. But my God, man, give them some warning, tread lightly. Remember that some people like to tuck their dirty linens out of sight; don't laugh when you tell them the whole neighborhood has seen their last stained threadbare shirt flapping in the breeze."

The rest, Bossuet doesn't feel like addressing. He needs to think about it, and he needs to read the rest of the book.
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Laigle de Meaux

March 2016

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