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Eh, which shall it be?" For a moment Howland stood motionless, stunned by the Frenchman's words. Quickly he recovered himself. His eyes burned with a metallic gleam as they met the half taunt in Croisset's cool smile. "If I had not stopped you we would have gone on?" he questioned tensely. "To be sure, M'seur," retorted Croisset, still smiling.
How will the rehearsals of Cadio prevent you from coming to see your poor old friend this autumn? It is not impossible. I know Freville. He is an excellent and very cultivated man. LXXXVIII. TO GEORGE SAND Croisset, Wednesday evening, 9 September, 1868 Is this the way to behave, dear master?
I tell you that I look at Iowaka whenever I get the chance!" "Is she not worth it?" cried Jean in rapture. "You are welcome to every look that you can get, Jan Thoreau. But the foreigner I will skin him alive and spit him with devil-thorn if he so much as peeps at her out of the wrong way of his eye!" Croisset spoke. "There was once a foreigner who came. You remember?" "I remember," said Jan.
I shall return home to Croisset the first of May. But I shall see you before then. Everything will get right again with the sun. The lovely lady in question made to me, for you, the most proper excuses, asserting to me that "she never had any intention of insulting genius." Certainly, I shall be glad to meet M. Favre; since he is a friend of yours I shall like him.
CLXIV. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, at Croisset Nohant, 20 May, 1870 It is a very long time since I have had news of my old troubadour. You must be in Croisset. If it is as warm there as it is here, you must be suffering; here it is 34 degrees in the shade, and in the night, 24. Maurice has had a bad relapse of sore throat, without membranes this time, and without danger.
"I want to thank you for what you did, Croisset. I don't know what happened. I don't know who they were or why they tried to kill me. There was a girl I was going with her " He dropped his hand in time to see the strange fire that had leaped into the half-breed's eyes. In astonishment he half lifted himself again, his white face questioning Croisset. "Do you know?" he whispered eagerly.
Not until darkness was falling about them did Jean drop near enough to speak again. Then he shouted: "Another hour and we reach Snowbird River, M'sieur. That is four miles from Adare House. But ahead of us the wind rushes across a wide sweep of the lake. Shall we hazard it?" "Yes, yes," cried the girl, answering for Philip. "We must go on!" Without another word Croisset led the way.
He looked closely at Jean as they put up their own tent, and for the first time he saw that the mask had fallen from the half-breed's face, and that it was filled with that same mysterious hopelessness and despair. Almost roughly he caught him by the shoulder. "See here, Jean Croisset," he cried impatiently, "you're a man. What are you afraid of?"
But he brought back other news. Williams was sick with the plague in a Cree wigwam on the lower Porcupine. It was the last they ever heard of the factor, except that he died some time in March, and was burned by the Crees. Croisset went back over the Churchill trail, and found his wife ready to greet him with open arms.
She is going through expiation for her madness, she will be reborn no matter what happens. We shall perhaps be carried away, the rest of us. To die of pneumonia or of a bullet is dying just the same. Let's die without cursing our race! We still love you, and we all embrace you. G. Sand CLXXXI. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, at Croisset. Nohant, 4 February, 1871. Don't you receive my letters, then?
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