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Before Giselle went home to her own house she called on the Abbe Bardin, whom a rather surly servant was not disposed to disturb, as he was just eating his breakfast. The Abbe Bardin was Jacqueline's confessor, and he held the same relation to a number of other young girls who were among her particular friends.
"Never!" she cried, beside herself. "You hear me never will I consent, whatever happens!" At that moment the door was partly opened, and a servant announced "Monsieur l'Abbe Bardin." Madame d'Argy made a gesture which was anything but reverential. "Well, to be sure this is the right moment with a vengeance! What does he want!
He evidently was not angry at what she had dared to say, and she acknowledged this to herself with an aching heart. "I don't exactly trust your kind of care," said Madame d'Argy, with a smile that was not gay, and certainly not amiable. She went, however, because Fred repeated: "But go and see the Abbe Bardin."
"Never!" she cried, beside herself. "You hear me never will I consent, whatever happens!" At that moment the door was partly opened, and a servant announced "Monsieur l'Abbe Bardin." Madame d'Argy made a gesture which was anything but reverential. "Well, to be sure this is the right moment with a vengeance! What does he want!
But when this smile, the result of long experience, did not light up his features, the good Abbe Bardin looked like an elderly child; he was short, his walk was a trot, his face was round and ruddy, his eyes, which were short-sighted, were large, wide-open, and blue, and his heavy crop of white hair, which curled and crinkled above his forehead, made him look like a sixty-year-old angel, crowned with a silvery aureole.
A section of plug tobacco, charmingly named Peach and Honey, was purchased for a quarter as a gift to Bill Bardin of the ice wagon. Another quarter secured three pale-brown cigars, with gay bands about their middles, to be lavished upon the hero, Starling Tucker. The colourful years sped.
Before Giselle went home to her own house she called on the Abbe Bardin, whom a rather surly servant was not disposed to disturb, as he was just eating his breakfast. The Abbe Bardin was Jacqueline's confessor, and he held the same relation to a number of other young girls who were among her particular friends.
Tell me what to do in future I am weary of taking charge of myself. I said so the other day to the Abbe Bardin. He is the only person I have seen since my return. It seems to me I am coming back to my old ideas you remember how I once wished to end my days in the cell of a Carmelite?
"And what did the Abbe Bardin tell you?" asked Giselle, with a slight movement of her shoulders. "He only told me that he could not say at present whether that were my vocation." "Nor can I," said Giselle. Jacqueline lifted up her face, wet with tears, which she had been leaning on the lap of Giselle.
It was that summer he spent many forenoons on the steps of the ice wagon driven by his good friend, Bill Bardin. Bill said you made good-enough money delivering ice, and it was pleasant on a hot morning to rumble along the streets on the back steps of the covered wagon, cooled by the great blocks of ice still in its sawdust.
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