You see, even though I believe in the truth, I am, in many ways, a coward, and I sometimes go out of my way to avoid meeting it.In the winter of 1843 Adèle’s oldest daughter, Léopoldine, was married to Charles Vacquerie. No one told me of this event, but I saw the notice of the wedding in the newspapers. Léopoldine was nineteen years old.I had heard of the groom because his brother was Auguste Vacquerie, an avid supporter of Victor’s. A disciple, really. He was a man with literary aspirations, and he had staged a new production of Hernani, probably with the sole purpose of impressing Victor. Why anyone would want to mount that dreadful play again is beyond me.I suppose Léopoldine met Charles through the family’s association with Auguste, although I heard a rumour that it was really Auguste who was in love with Léopoldine and that, at the wedding, he was in danger of proclaiming his love.Life has a strange way of circling back on itself.But Léopoldine was in love with Charles, and they married and moved to his family’s village near Le Havre.
