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It was made in such symmetry and largeness that six men-at-arms with their lances in their rests might together in a breast ride all up to the very top of all the palace. From the tower Anatole to the Mesembrine were fair spacious galleries, all coloured over and painted with the ancient prowesses, histories, and descriptions of the world.
There is just one thing that should be added to this a rich emotional attitude toward life. It is the greater wealth of this that makes a novelist like Thackeray or Anatole France superior to one like Balzac. The personality that tells the story is as much a part of the total work as the characters and events portrayed, and must be taken into account in any final judgment of the whole.
Sleeping-Car Porter. #"France, Anatole." *Lady With the White Fan. By the Sea. Empty House. Kennel. Maniac. Son of His Father. Old Fisherwoman. False Esther. *Bibliomaniac. Ocarina. *Wild Squire. *Crumbled Blossoms. Portal of Heaven. Piet
Did I hinder you? Who arranged everything for you? Who found the priest and got the passport? Who raised the money? I did it all." "Well, thank you for it. Do you think I am not grateful?" And Anatole sighed and embraced Dolokhov. "I helped you, but all the same I must tell you the truth; it is a dangerous business, and if you think about it a stupid business. Well, you'll carry her off all right!
Natasha turned her pretty little head toward the elegant young officer and smiled at him over her bare shoulder. Anatole, who was as handsome at close quarters as at a distance, sat down beside her and told her he had long wished to have this happiness ever since the Naryshkins' ball in fact, at which he had had the well-remembered pleasure of seeing her.
He spoke impetuously, with growing emotion, conscious of an infinite relief and abandonment. Watson listened with scarcely a comment. Midway a little pattering, scuffling noise startled the speaker. He looked round and saw the monkey, Anatole, who had been lying asleep in his basket. Watson nodded to Fenwick to go on, and then feebly motioned to his knee.
She was going straight on through the conservatory, neither seeing nor hearing anything, when suddenly the well-known whispering of Mademoiselle Bourienne aroused her. She raised her eyes, and two steps away saw Anatole embracing the Frenchwoman and whispering something to her.
She vividly pictured herself as Prince Andrew's wife, and the scenes of happiness with him she had so often repeated in her imagination, and at the same time, aglow with excitement, recalled every detail of yesterday's interview with Anatole. "Why could that not be as well?" she sometimes asked herself in complete bewilderment.
They found themselves on the side of a steep mountain, down which they scoured madly, hand linked in hand. But fast as they ran, it was long ere they ceased to hear the tongue of Madam Lucifer. Taken by permission from The Well of St. Claire, by Anatole France, translated by Alfred Allinson. Published, 1909, by John Lane Co., New York. Michael in the Altar-Piece of the Church of St.
It has upset Monsieur Anatole very much." I suppose it was that word "upset" that touched Aunt Dahlia off. Experience had taught her what happened when Anatole got upset. I had always known her as a woman who was quite active on her pins, but I had never suspected her of being capable of the magnificent burst of speed which she now showed.
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