Bel ami maupassant pdf

She thanked him gravely and stood upon tiptoe in order to lay her hand upon his arm. Upon entering the drawing-room, the young man carefully surveyed it. It was not a large room; but there were no bright colors, and one felt at ease; it was restful. The walls were draped with violet hangings covered with tiny embroidered flowers of yellow silk.

The portieres were of a grayish blue and the chairs were of all shapes, of all sizes; scattered about the room were couches and large and small easy-chairs, all covered with Louis XVI. Forestier offered him a cup, with the smile that was always upon her lips. Walter some attention. First he drank his coffee, which he feared he should let fall upon the carpet; then he sought a pretext for approaching the manager's wife and commencing a conversation. Suddenly he perceived that she held an empty cup in her hand, and as she was not near a table, she did not know where to put it.

He rushed toward her:. He took away the cup and returned: "If you, but knew, Madame, what pleasant moments 'La Vie Francaise' afforded me, when I was in the desert! It is indeed the only paper one cares to read outside of France; it contains everything. She smiled with amiable indifference as she replied: "M.

Walter had a great deal of trouble in producing the kind of journal which was required. They talked of Paris, the suburbs, the Seine, the delights of summer, of everything they could think of. Finally M. Norbert de Varenne advanced, a glass of liqueur in his hand, and Duroy discreetly withdrew. In her turn Mme. He felt that he would like to devote himself to her, to protect her—and the slowness with which he replied to her questions indicated his preoccupation.

Suddenly, without any cause, Mme. Duroy was seized with an eager desire to embrace the child, as if part of that embrace would revert to the mother. He asked in a gallant, yet paternal tone: "Will you permit me to kiss you, Mademoiselle? Seating himself, Duroy took Laurine upon his knee, and kissed her lips and her fine wavy hair. Her mother was surprised: "Well, that is strange! Ordinarily she only allows ladies to caress her. You are irresistible, Monsieur!

When Mme. Forestier joined them, a cry of astonishment escaped her: "Well, Laurine has become sociable; what a miracle! The young man rose to take his leave, fearing he might spoil his conquest by some awkward word. He bowed to the ladies, clasped and gently pressed their hands, and then shook hands with the men. He observed that Jacques Rival's was dry and warm and responded cordially to his pressure; Norbert de Varenne's was moist and cold and slipped through his fingers; Walter's was cold and soft, without life, expressionless; Forestier's fat and warm.

When he reached the staircase, he felt like running down, his joy was so great; he went down two steps at a time, but suddenly on the second floor, in the large mirror, he saw a gentleman hurrying on, and he slackened his pace, as much ashamed as if he had been surprised in a crime. He surveyed himself some time with a complacent smile; then taking leave of his image, he bowed low, ceremoniously, as if saluting some grand personage.

When Georges Duroy reached the street, he hesitated as to what he should do. He felt inclined to stroll along, dreaming of the future and inhaling the soft night air; but the thought of the series of articles ordered by M. Walter occurred to him, and he decided to return home at once and begin work.

He walked rapidly along until he came to Rue Boursault. The tenement in which he lived was occupied by twenty families—families of workingmen—and as he mounted the staircase he experienced a sensation of disgust and a desire to live as wealthy men do.

Duroy's room was on the fifth floor. He entered it, opened his window, and looked out: the view was anything but prepossessing. He turned away, thinking: "This won't do. I must go to work. He dipped his pen into the ink and wrote at the head of his paper in a bold hand: "Souvenirs of a Soldier in Africa. He rested his head upon his hand and stared at the blank sheet before him. What should he say? Suddenly he thought: "I must begin with my departure," and he wrote: "In , about the fifteenth of May, when exhausted France was recruiting after the catastrophe of the terrible years—" Here he stopped short, not knowing how to introduce his subject.

After a few minutes' reflection, he decided to lay aside that page until the following day, and to write a description of Algiers. He began: "Algiers is a very clean city—" but he could not continue. After an effort he added: "It is inhabited partly by Arabs. He glanced around his miserable room; mentally he rebelled against his poverty and resolved to leave the next day.

Suddenly the desire to work came on him, and he tried to begin the article again; he had vague ideas of what he wanted to say, but he could not express his thoughts in words. Convinced of his inability he arose once more, his blood coursing rapidly through his veins.

He turned to the window just as the train was coming out of the tunnel, and his thoughts reverted to his parents. He saw their tiny home on the heights overlooking Rouen and the valley of the Seine. His father and mother kept an inn, La Belle-Vue, at which the citizens of the faubourgs took their lunches on Sundays. They had wished to make a "gentleman" of their son and had sent him to college. His studies completed, he had entered the army with the intention of becoming an officer, a colonel, or a general.

But becoming disgusted with military life, he determined to try his fortune in Paris. When his time of service had expired, he went thither, with what results we have seen. He awoke from his reflections as the locomotive whistled shrilly, closed his window, and began to disrobe, muttering: "Bah, I shall be able to work better to-morrow morning.

My brain is not clear to-night. I have drunk a little too much. I can't work well under such circumstances. He awoke early, and, rising, opened his window to inhale the fresh air. In a few moments he seated himself at his table, dipped his pen in the ink, rested his head upon his hand and thought—but in vain! However, he was not discouraged, but in thought reassured himself: "Bah, I am not accustomed to it!

It is a profession that must be learned like all professions. Some one must help me the first time. I'll go to Forestier. He'll start my article for me in ten minutes. When he reached the street, Duroy decided that it was rather early to present himself at his friend's house, so he strolled along under the trees on one of the boulevards for a time.

On arriving at Forestier's door, he found his friend going out. Duroy stammered in confusion: "I—I—cannot write that article on Algeria that M. Walter wants. It is not very surprising, seeing that I have never written anything.

It requires practice. I could write very rapidly, I am sure, if I could make a beginning. I have the ideas but I cannot express them. Duroy continued: "Yes, anyone is liable to have that trouble at the beginning; and, well—I have come to ask you to help me.

In ten minutes you can set me right. You can give me a lesson in style; without you I can do nothing. The other smiled gaily. He patted his companion's arm and said to him: "Go to my wife; she will help you better than I can. I have trained her for that work. I have not time this morning or I would do it willingly. Forestier walked away, and Duroy slowly ascended the stairs, wondering what he should say and what kind of a reception he would receive.

Duroy replied: "Ask Mme. Forestier if she will see me, and tell her that M. Forestier, whom I met on the street, sent me. The lackey soon returned and ushered Duroy into Madame's presence. She was seated at a table and extended her hand to him. He stammered: "I did not want to come up, Madame, but your husband, whom I met below, insisted—I dare scarcely tell you my errand—I worked late last night and early this morning, to write the article on Algeria which M.

Walter wants—and I did not succeed—I destroyed all my attempts—I am not accustomed to the work—and I came to ask Forestier to assist me—his once. He said you could help me better than he—but—I dared not—I did not like to.

I am charmed with your idea. Wait, take my chair, for they know my handwriting on the paper—we will write a successful article. She took a cigarette from the mantelpiece and lighted it. She replied: "I will manage it all right. I will make the sauce but I must have the dish. First of all we will suppose that you are addressing a friend, which will allow us scope for remarks of all kinds. Begin this way: 'My dear Henry, you wish to know something about Algeria; you shall. Then followed a brilliantly worded description of Algeria and of the port of Algiers, an excursion to the province of Oran, a visit to Saida, and an adventure with a pretty Spanish maid employed in a factory.

When the article was concluded, he could find no words of thanks; he was happy to be near her, grateful for and delighted with their growing intimacy. It seemed to him that everything about him was a part of her, even to the books upon the shelves. The chairs, the furniture, the air—all were permeated with that delightful fragrance peculiar to her.

She continued: "If you only knew how comical, original, and intelligent she is! She is a true Bohemian. It is for that reason that her husband no longer loves her. He only sees her defects and none of her good qualities. Forestier shrugged her shoulders. He is in Paris a week out of each month. His wife calls it 'Holy Week.

Come here and see her some day. As she spoke, the door opened noiselessly, and a gentleman entered unannounced. He halted on seeing a man. For a moment Mme. Forestier seemed confused; then she said in a natural voice, though her cheeks were tinged with a blush:. Georges Duroy, a future journalist. The two men bowed, gazed into one another's eyes, and then Duroy took his leave.

Neither tried to detain him. On reaching the street he felt sad and uncomfortable. Count de Vaudrec's face was constantly before him. It seemed to him that the man was displeased at finding him tete-a-tete with Mme. Forestier, though why he should be, he could not divine. To while away the time until three o'clock, he lunched at Duval's, and then lounged along the boulevard.

When the clock chimed the hour of his appointment, he climbed the stairs leading to the office of "La Vie Francaise.

Duroy waited twenty minutes, then he turned to the clerk and said: "M. Walter had an appointment with me at three o'clock. At any rate, see if my friend M. Forestier is here. He was conducted along a corridor and ushered into a large room in which four men were writing at a table. Forestier was standing before the fireplace, smoking a cigarette.

After listening to Duroy's story he said:. Walter, or else you might remain here until seven o'clock. They entered the manager's room. Norbert de Varenne was writing an article, seated in an easychair; Jacques Rival, stretched upon a divan, was smoking a cigar. The room had the peculiar odor familiar to all journalists.

When they approached M. Walter, Forestier said: "Here is my friend Duroy. The manager seemed delighted and said with a smile: "Very good. You are a man of your word. Need I look over it, Forestier? But Forestier hastened to reply: "It is not necessary, M. Walter; I helped him in order to initiate him into the profession. It is very good. Will you allow me to retain him on the same terms? Taking his friend's arm, the journalist drew him away, while M.

Walter returned to the game of ecarte he had been engaged in when they entered. Forestier and Duroy returned to the room in which Georges had found his friend. The latter said to his new reporter:.

First of all, I shall give you a letter of introduction to the chief of the police, who will in turn introduce you to one of his employees. You can arrange with him for all important news, official and semiofficial. For details you can apply to Saint-Potin, who is posted; you will see him to-morrow. Above all, you must learn to make your way everywhere in spite of closed doors.

You will receive two hundred francs a months, two sous a line for original matter, and two sous a line for articles you are ordered to write on different subjects. Do the rest to-morrow and come here at three o'clock as you did to-day. Georges Duroy did not sleep well, so anxious was he to see his article in print.

He rose at daybreak, and was on the street long before the newsboys. When he secured a paper and saw his name at the end of a column in large letters, he became very much excited. He felt inclined to enact the part of a newsboy and cry out to the hurrying throng: "Buy this! With great pomposity he informed the chief clerk that he was on the staff of "La Vie Francaise," and by that means was avenged for many petty insults which had been offered him.

He then had some cards written with his new calling beneath his name, made several purchases, and repaired to the office of "La Vie Francaise. Very well; I have several things for you to do. Just wait ten minutes till I finish this work. At the other end of the table sat a short, pale man, very stout and bald.

Forestier asked him, when his letter was completed, "Saint-Potin, at what time shall you interview those people? Then turning to his friend, Forestier added: "Have you brought the other paper on Algeria?

The article this morning was very successful. Duroy stammered: "No, I thought I should have time this afternoon. I had so much to do—I could not. The other shrugged his shoulders. Walter counted on your copy. I will tell him it will be ready to-morrow. If you think you will be paid for doing nothing, you are mistaken. Forestier turned around in his chair and said, to Duroy: "Listen.

You must interview them. Ask the general and the rajah their opinions on the dealings of England in the extreme East, their ideas of their system of colonization and government, their hopes relative to the intervention of Europe and of France in particular.

The two men walked down the boulevard together, while Saint-Potin gave Duroy a sketch of all the officials connected with the paper, sparing no one in his criticism. When he mentioned Forestier, he said: "As for him, he was fortunate in marrying his wife. Saint-Potin rubbed his hands. Duroy felt as if he would like to box Saint-Potin's ears. To change the subject he said: "It seems to me that it is late, and we have two noble lords to call upon!

Saint-Potin laughed: "You are very innocent! Do you think that I am going to interview that Chinese and that Indian? As if I did not know better than they do what they should think to please the readers of 'La Vie Francaise'! They all say the same thing. I need only copy my article on the last comer, word for word, changing the heading, names, titles, and ages: in that there must be no error, or I shall be hauled over the coals by the 'Figaro' or 'Gaulois. We will smoke our cigars and stroll in that direction.

Total—one hundred sous for cabfare. That is the way, my dear fellow. When they arrived at the Madeleine, Saint-Potin said to his companion: "If you have anything to do, I do not need you. Duroy shook hands with him and walked away. The thought of the article he had to write that evening haunted him.

Mentally he collected the material as he wended his way to the cafe at which he dined. Then he returned home and seated himself at his table to work.

Before his eyes was the sheet of blank paper, but all the material he had amassed had escaped him. After trying for an hour, and after filling five pages with sentences which had no connection one with the other, he said: "I am not yet familiar with the work.

I must take another lesson. At ten o'clock the following morning he rang the bell, at his friend's house. The servant who opened the door, said: "Monsieur is busy.

Duroy had not expected to find Forestier at home. However he said: "Tell him it is M. Duroy on important business. In the course of five minutes he was ushered into the room in which he had spent so happy a morning. In the place Mme. Forestier had occupied, her husband was seated writing, while Mme. Forestier stood by the mantelpiece and dictated to him, a cigarette between her lips. But Forestier persisted: "Come, we are losing time; you did not force your way into the house for the pleasure of bidding us good morning.

Duroy, in confusion, replied: "No, it is this: I cannot complete my article, and you were—so—so kind the last time that I hoped—that I dared to come—". Forestier interrupted with: "So you think I will do your work and that you have only to take the money. Well, that is fine! Duroy hesitated: "Excuse me.

I believed—I—thought—" Then, in a clear voice, he said: "I beg a thousand pardons, Madame, and thank you very much for the charming article you wrote for me yesterday. He returned home saying to himself: "Very well, I will write it alone and they shall see. In an hour he had finished an article, which was a chaos of absurd matter, and took it boldly to the office. Duroy handed Forestier his manuscript. When Duroy and Saint-Potin, who had some political information to look up, were in the hall, the latter asked: "Have you been to the cashier's room?

To get your pay? You should always get your salary a month in advance. One cannot tell what might happen.

I will introduce you to the cashier. Duroy drew his two hundred francs together with twenty-eight francs for his article of the preceding day, which, in addition to what remained to him of his salary from the railroad office, left him three hundred and forty francs. He had never had so much, and he thought himself rich for an indefinite time. Saint-Potin took him to the offices of four or five rival papers, hoping that the news he had been commissioned to obtain had been already received by them and that he could obtain it by means of his diplomacy.

When evening came, Duroy, who had nothing more to do, turned toward the Folies-Bergeres, and walking up to the office, he said: "My name is Georges Duroy. I am on the staff of 'La Vie Francaise. Forestier, who promised to get me a pass. I do not know if he remembered it. The register was consulted, but his name was not inscribed upon it. However, the cashier, a very affable man, said to him: "Come in, M. Duroy, and speak to the manager yourself; he will see that everything is all right.

He entered and almost at once came upon Rachel, the woman he had seen there before. She approached him: "Good evening, my dear; are you well? I should like to go to the opera like this, with you, to show you off. At daybreak he again sallied forth to obtain a "Vie Francaise. On entering the office several hours later, he said to M. Walter: "I was very much surprised this morning not to see my second article on Algeria. The manager raised his head and said sharply: "I gave it to your friend, Forestier, and asked him to read it; he was dissatisfied with it; it will have to be done over.

Without a word, Duroy left the room, and entering his friend's office, brusquely asked: "Why did not my article appear this morning? The journalist, who was smoking a cigar, said calmly: "The manager did not consider it good, and bade me return it to you to be revised. There it is. He said nothing more of his "souvenirs," but gave his whole attention to reporting. He became acquainted behind the scenes at the theaters, and in the halls and corridors of the chamber of deputies; he knew all the cabinet ministers, generals, police agents, princes, ambassadors, men of the world, Greeks, cabmen, waiters at cafes, and many others.

In short he soon became a remarkable reporter, of great value to the paper, so M. Walter said. But as he only received ten centimes a line in addition to his fixed salary of two hundred francs and as his expenses were large, he never had a sou.

When he saw certain of his associates with their pockets full of money, he wondered what secret means they employed in order to obtain it. He determined to penetrate that mystery, to enter into the association, to obtrude himself upon his comrades, and make them share with him. Often at evening, as he watched the trains pass his window, he dreamed of the conduct he might pursue. Two months elapsed.

It was September. The fortune which Duroy had hoped to make so rapidly seemed to him slow in coming. Above all he was dissatisfied with the mediocrity of his position; he was appreciated, but was treated according to his rank. Forestier himself no longer invited him to dinner, and treated him as an inferior. Often he had thought of making Mme. Forestier a visit, but the remembrance of their last meeting restrained him.

She lived on Rue Verneuil, on the fourth floor. A maid answered his summons, and said: "Yes, Madame is at home, but I do not know whether she has risen. The shabby, threadbare chairs were ranged along the walls according to the servant's fancy, for there was not a trace visible of the care of a woman who loves her home. Duroy took a seat and waited some time.

Then a door opened and Mme. She exclaimed:. I was positive you had forgotten me. They began to chat at once as if they were old acquaintances, and in five minutes an intimacy, a mutual understanding, was established between those two beings alike in character and kind. Suddenly the young woman said in surprise: "It is astonishing how I feel with you.

It seems to me as if I had known you ten years. We shall undoubtedly become good friends; would that please you? He replied: "Certainly," with a smile more expressive than words. He thought her very bewitching in her pretty gown. When near Mme. Forestier, whose impassive, gracious smile attracted yet held at a distance, and seemed to say: "I like you, yet take care," he felt a desire to cast himself at her feet, or to kiss the hem of her garment. A gentle rap came at the door through which Mme.

The child entered, advanced to Duroy and offered him her hand. The astonished mother murmured: "That is a conquest. She replied in a flute-like voice and with the manner of a woman. The clock struck three; the journalist rose. I shall always be glad to welcome you. Why do I never meet you at the Forestiers? I am very busy. I hope, however, that we shall meet there one of these days. In the course of a few days he paid another visit to the enchantress. The maid ushered him into the drawing-room and Laurine soon entered; she offered him not her hand but her forehead, and said: "Mamma wishes me to ask you to wait for her about fifteen minutes, for she is not dressed.

I will keep you company. Duroy, who was amused at the child's ceremonious manner, replied: "Indeed, Mademoiselle, I shall be enchanted to spend a quarter of an hour with you. You are a sorcerer, sir!

They tried to converse, but Laurine, usually so silent, monopolized the conversation, and her mother was compelled to send her to her room. When they were alone, Mme. It is this: As I dine every week at the Foresters', I return it from time to time by inviting them to a restaurant. I do not like to have company at home; I am not so situated that I can have any. I know nothing about housekeeping or cooking. I prefer a life free from care; therefore I invite them to the cafe occasionally; but it is not lively when we are only three.

I am telling you this in order to explain such an informal gathering. I should like you to be present at our Saturdays at the Cafe Riche at seven-thirty.

Do you know the house? Duroy accepted gladly. He left her in a transport of delight and impatiently awaited the day of the dinner. He was the first to arrive at the place appointed and was shown into a small private room, in which the table was laid for four; that table looked very inviting with its colored glasses, silver, and candelabra. Duroy seated himself upon a low bench. Forestier entered and shook hands with him with a cordiality he never evinced at the office.

Very soon the door opened and Mesdames Forestier and De Marelle appeared, heavily veiled, surrounded by the charming mystery necessary to a rendezvous in a place so public. As Duroy greeted the former, she took him to task for not having been to see her; then she added with a smile: "Ah, you prefer Mme.

When the waiter handed the wine-list to Forestier, Mme. Forestier, who seemed not to have heard her, asked: "Do you object to my closing the window? My cough has troubled me for several days. His wife did not speak. The various courses were duly served and then the guests began to chat. They discussed a scandal which was being circulated about a society belle. Forestier was very much amused by it.

Duroy said with a smile: "How many would abandon themselves to a caprice, a dream of love, if they did not fear that they would pay for a brief happiness with tears and an irremediable scandal?

Both women glanced at him approvingly. Forestier cried with a sceptical laugh: "The poor husbands! Duroy said: "When I love a woman, everything else in the world is forgotten. Forestier murmured: "There is no happiness comparable to that first clasp of the hand, when one asks: 'Do you love me? Forestier, lying upon the couch, said in serious tone: "That frankness does you honor and proves you to be a practical woman.

But might one ask, what is M. She shrugged her shoulders disdainfully and said: "M. The conversation grew slow. Forestier's charming reserve, the modesty in her voice, in her smile, all seemed to extenuate the bold sallies which issued from her lips. The dessert came and then followed the coffee. The hostess and her guests lighted cigarettes, but Forestier suddenly began to cough. When the attack was over, he growled angrily: "These parties are not good for me; they are stupid.

Let us go home. She tried to read it, but the figures danced before her eyes; she handed the paper to Duroy. The total was one hundred and thirty francs. Duroy glanced at the bill and when it was settled, whispered: "How much shall I give the waiter? He laid five francs upon the plate and handed the purse to its owner, saying: "Shall I escort you home? They shook hands with the Forestiers and were soon rolling along in a cab side by side. Duroy could think of nothing to say; he felt impelled to clasp her in his arms.

The recollection of their conversation at dinner emboldened, but the fear of scandal restrained him. He would have thought her asleep, had he not seen her eyes glisten whenever a ray of light penetrated the dark recesses of the carriage. Of what was she thinking? Suddenly she moved her foot, nervously, impatiently.

That movement caused him to tremble, and turning quickly, he cast himself upon her, seeking her lips with his. Porters in their shirt-sleeves, astride their chairs, smoked their pipes at the carriage gates, and pedestrians strolled leisurely along, hats in hand. When Georges Duroy reached the boulevard he halted again, undecided as to which road to choose. Finally he turned toward the Madeleine and followed the tide of people. The large, well-patronized cafes tempted Duroy, but were he to drink only two glasses of beer in an evening, farewell to the meager supper the following night!

Yet he said to himself: "I will take a glass at the Americain. By Jove, I am thirsty. If he could have caught one of them at a corner in the dark he would have choked him without a scruple! He recalled the two years spent in Africa, and the manner in which he had extorted money from the Arabs. A smile hovered about his lips at the recollection of an escapade which had cost three men their lives, a foray which had given his two comrades and himself seventy fowls, two sheep, money, and something to laugh about for six months.

The culprits were never found; indeed, they were not sought for, the Arab being looked upon as the soldier's prey. But in Paris it was different; there one could not commit such deeds with impunity. He regretted that he had not remained where he was; but he had hoped to improve his conditionand for that reason he was in Paris!

He passed the Vaudeville and stopped at the Cafe Americain, debating as to whether he should take that "glass. He knew that when the beer was placed in front of him, he would drink it; and then what would he do at eleven o'clock? So he walked on, intending to go as far as the Madeleine and return. When he reached the Place de l'Opera, a tall, young man passed him, whose face he fancied was familiar. He followed him, repeating: "Where the deuce have I seen that fellow?

He exclaimed: "Wait, Forestier! The latter turned, looked at him, and said: "What do you want, sir? And how are you? I cough six months out of the twelve as a result of bronchitis contracted at Bougival, about the time of my return to Paris four years ago.

They ordered him to spend the winter in the south, but how could he? He was married and was a journalist in a responsible editorial position. He was very much changed.

Formerly Forestier had been thin, giddy, noisy, and always in good spirits. But three years of life in Paris had made another man of him; now he was stout and serious, and his hair was gray on his temples although he could not number more than twenty-seven years. Forestier asked: "Where are you going? Great book, Bel-Ami pdf is enough to raise the goose bumps alone. Add a review Your Rating: Your Comment:. Une vie by Guy de Maupassant. Like Death by Guy de Maupassant. The Horla by Guy de Maupassant.

Bel-Ami by Guy de Maupassant.