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"Emilia Alessandra Belloni is good enough, certainly," said Captain Gambier. The shading straw rim had shaken once during the colloquy. It was now a fixed defence. "What is her new name?" Mrs. Sedley inquired. "That I cannot tell. Wilfrid merely mentions that he has not seen her." "I," said Mrs. Sedley, "when I reach Milan, shall not trust to Mr.
The folly of lips more loyal than the spirit touched his lively perception; and as the hot inward struggle, masked behind his softly-playing eyes, had reduced his personal consciousness so that if he spoke from his feeling there was a chance of his figuring feebly, he put on his ever-ready other self: "Categorically I reply: Have I loved Miss Emilia Belloni? No. Do I? No.
Not to dwell on it too long for, I have never endured such a shock as it has given me Mrs. Chump left the house, and the next thing received from her was a lawyer's letter. Business men say she is not to blame: women may cherish their own opinion. But, oh, Miss Belloni! is it not terrible? You are pale."
The blow was entirely unexpected, and took Wilfrid's breath, so that he was not ready for his turn in this singular piece of harmony. "Ye did!" Mrs. Chump rejoiced to behold how her chance spark kindled flame in his cheeks. "It's pos'tuv ye did. And ye're the best blusher of the two, my dear; and no shame to ye, though it is a garl's business. That little Belloni takes to 't like milk; but you "
I proposed to take a lodging for myself, all by myself; go there in the morning and return at night, and give lessons, and get money for them. My landlady's good son gave me the brass-plate again. Emilia Alessandra Belloni! I was glad to see my name. I got two pupils very quickly one, an old lady, and one, a young one.
"Who says it?" he thundered, just as she anticipated. "It's not true?" "Not true! how can it be true?" "You never loved Emilia Belloni? don't love her now? do not love her now? If you have ever said that you love Emilia Belloni, recant, and you are forgiven; and then go, for I think I hear Georgiana below. Quick! I am not acting. It's earnest. The word, if you please, as you are a gentleman.
Then that good woman's daughter came to him to keep him from starving; she risked being stripped naked and beaten with rods, to keep my father from starving. When my father speaks of Sandra now, it makes my mother she does not like it. I am named after her: Emilia Alessandra Belloni. 'Sandra' is short for it.
"Not to Turin, not to London, Sandra Belloni!" he replied; "not to a place where you are wet all night long, to wheeze for ever after it. Go in." She entered the carriage quickly, to escape from staring officers, whose laughter rang in her ears and humbled her bitterly; she felt herself bringing dishonour on her lover. The carriage continued in the track of the Austrians.
I had had an introduction from Liszt to his former secretary Belloni, who felt it his duty, in loyalty to the instructions received, to put me into communication with a literary man, a certain Gustave Vaisse, with the object of being commissioned to write an opera libretto for production in Paris. I did not, however, make the personal acquaintance of Vaisse.
His visitors declined to eject the London fog by this aid of the mountain monks, and Mr. Pericles warmed himself alone. "You are wiz old Belloni," he called out. "I am not staying with my father," said Emilia. "Where?" Mr. Pericles shed a baleful glance on Sir Purcell. "I am staying with Signor Marini." "Servente!" Mr.
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