But he's become one, that's all." Massot was now fairly launched, and went on with his portraits, the series which he had, at one moment, dreamt of writing under the title of "Deputies for Sale." There were the simpletons who fell into the furnace, the men whom ambition goaded to exasperation, the low minds that yielded to the temptation of an open drawer, the company-promoters who grew intoxicated and lost ground by dint of dealing with big figures.

At the same time, however, Massot admitted that these men were relatively few in number, and that black sheep were to be found in every parliament of the world.

Then Sagnier's name cropped up again, and Massot remarked that only Sagnier could regard the French Chambers as mere dens of thieves.
Pierre, meantime, felt most interested in the tempest which the threat of a ministerial crisis was stirring up before him.

Not only the men like Duthil and Chaigneux, pale at feeling the ground tremble beneath them, and wondering whether they would not sleep at the Mazas prison that night, were gathered round Barroux and Monferrand; all the latters' clients were there, all who enjoyed influence or office through them, and who would collapse and disappear should they happen to fall.

And it was something to see the anxious glances and the pale dread amidst all the whispered chatter, the bits of information and tittle-tattle which were carried hither and thither.