Hérault, Fabre thinks: and his mind drifts back-as it tends to, these days- to...

Hérault, Fabre thinks: and his mind drifts back-as it tends to, these days- to the Café du Foy. He'd been giving readings from his latest-Augusta was dying the death at the Italiens-and in came this huge, rough-looking boy, shoe-horned into a lawyer's black suit, whom he'd made a sketch of in the street, ten years before. The boy had developed this upper-class drawl, and he'd talked about Hérault-"his looks are impeccable, he's well traveled, he's pursued by all the ladies at Court"-and beside Danton had been this fey wide-eyed egotist who had turned out to be half the city's extramarital
interest. The years pass … plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose …