“It would be a long tale, my lord.”
“I think you are right. The interest of the story lies chiefly in the details.”
“I took the liberty of saying as much to your grace.”
“Well, I must go to Versailles, but I shall be delighted if you will come and see me sometimes. In the meanwhile, M. Casanova, think what I can do for you.”
I had been almost offended at the way in which M. de Choiseul had received me, and I was inclined to resent it; but the end of our conversation, and above all the kindly tone of his last words, quieted me, and I left him, if not satisfied, at least without bitterness in my heart.
From him I went to M. de Boulogne’s, and found him a man of quite a different stamp to the duke—in manners, dress, and appearance. He received me with great politeness, and began by complimenting me on the high place I enjoyed in the opinion of M. de Bernis, and on my skill in matters of finance.
I felt that no compliment had been so ill deserved, and I could hardly help bursting into laughter. My good angel, however, made me keep my countenance.
M. de Boulogne had an old man with him, every feature bore the imprint of genius, and who inspired me with respect.
“Give me your views;” said the comptroller, “either on paper or ‘viva voce’. You will find me willing to learn and ready to grasp your ideas. Here is M. Paris du Vernai, who wants twenty millions for his military school; and he wishes to get this sum without a charge on the state or emptying the treasury.”
“It is God alone, sir, who has the creative power.”