Georges was in a rage. It is a spectacle to comtemplate, his rage. He tore off his cravat, strode about the room, his throat and chest glistening with sweat, his voice shaking the windows. "This bloody so-called Revolution has been a waste of time. What have the patriots got out of it? Nothing." He glared around the room. He looked as if he would hit anyone who contradicted him. Outside there was some far-off shouting, from the direction of the river.
"If that's true-" Camille said. But he couldn't manage it, he couldn't get his words out. "If this one's done for-and I think it always was done for-" He put his face into his hands, exasperated with himself.
"Come on, Camille," Georges said, "there's no time to wait around for you. Fabre, please bang his head against the wall."
"That's what I'm trying to say, Georges- Jacques. We have no more time left." I don't know whether it was the threat, or because he suddenly saw the future, that Camille recovered his voice: but he began to speak in short, simple sentences. "We must begin again. We must stage a coup. We must depose Louis. We must take control. We must declare the republic. We must do it before the summer ends."
"If that's true-" Camille said. But he couldn't manage it, he couldn't get his words out. "If this one's done for-and I think it always was done for-" He put his face into his hands, exasperated with himself.
"Come on, Camille," Georges said, "there's no time to wait around for you. Fabre, please bang his head against the wall."
"That's what I'm trying to say, Georges- Jacques. We have no more time left." I don't know whether it was the threat, or because he suddenly saw the future, that Camille recovered his voice: but he began to speak in short, simple sentences. "We must begin again. We must stage a coup. We must depose Louis. We must take control. We must declare the republic. We must do it before the summer ends."
( Hilary Mantel )
[ A Place of Greater Safety ]
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