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had the sympathy of the people, who welcomed Gwynplaine; on the other,
the contempt of the great, rejecting Lord Fermain Clancharlie. On one
side, attraction; on the other, repulsion; both leading him towards the
shadows. He felt himself, as it were, struck from behind. Fate strikes
treacherous blows. Everything will be explained hereafter, but, in the
meantime, destiny is a snare, and man sinks into its pitfalls. He had
expected to rise, and was welcomed by laughter. Such apotheoses have
lugubrious terminations. There is a dreary expression--to be sobered;
tragical wisdom born of drunkenness! In the midst of that tempest of
gaiety commingled with ferocity, Gwynplaine fell into a reverie.
An assembly in mad merriment drifts as chance directs, and loses its
compass when it gives itself to laughter. None knew whither they were
tending, or what they were doing. The House was obliged to rise,
adjourned by the Lord Chancellor, "owing to extraordinary
circumstances," to the next day. The peers broke up. They bowed to the
royal throne and departed. Echoes of prolonged laughter were heard
losing themselves in the corridors.
Assemblies, besides their official doors, have--under tapestry, under
projections, and under arches--all sorts of hidden doors, by which the
members escape like water through the cracks in a vase. In a short time
the chamber was deserted. This takes place quickly and almost
imperceptibly, and those places, so lately full of voices, are suddenly
given back to silence.
Reverie carries one far; and one comes by long dreaming to reach, as it
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