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Again his voice became louder as he read the last two verses: "Connaissez la Fortune inconstante et legere; La perfide se plait aux plus cruels revers, On la voit, abuber le sage, le vulgaire, Jouer insolemment tout ce faible univers; Aujourd'hui c'est sur ma tete Qu'elle repand des faveurs, Des demain elle s'apprete A les emporter ailleurs."
May the small and persecuted band of those who refuse to share the general hatred, and whom therefore hate persecutes, be ever warmed by this inward joy! Nothing can deprive them of it. Nothing can harm them. For, amid the horror and the shames of the present, they are the contemporaries of the future. October 15, 1917. "demain," Geneva, November, 1917.
"How do you know Socialism isn't a return to Him?" "Is it?" "Aha! You are getting interested.... But I hear my mother coming down to dinner. To be continued in our next. À demain, is it not?" He held out his shapely white hand, and hastened through the conservatory into the garden. "Going to dig?" Eileen called after him maliciously.
"D'ye know, Losh," he resumed, "whin Mister Frank is goin' to the fishery?" "He go demain, I b'lieve, and Mademoiselle Edith go too." "None o' the min goin'?" inquired the blacksmith. "Non. Monsieur Frank just go for to try if dere be any fish to be cotch by de hook; and I t'ink he go more for to give Edith one drive dan dat." "Very likely, Losh. The poor purty little crature.
His incessant care for the good organisation and perfecting of our military forces, and the pains he took to select the most deserving men from their ranks without a shadow of favouritism or regard for birth such men as Lamoriciere, Cavaignac, Canrobert, and MacMahon and to advance them to the highest positions, had been appreciated by the public. All this was pour demain, for the morrow.
None the less was she offended, as a flower by a crisping wind. If that man had really been kissing her mother it was serious, and her father ought to know. "Demain!" "All right!" And her mother going up to Town! She turned into her bedroom and hung out of the window to cool her face, which had suddenly grown very hot. Jon must be at the station by now! What did her father know about Jon?
With one accord we noiselessly gathered up the pies and carried them into my room. Then she walked to the door of her room, turned, held out her hand, and whispering, "Good-night! A demain, monsieur!" slipped into her room and softly closed the door. And all night long I lay in troubled slumber beside the pies, a rifle resting on the blankets beside me, a revolver under my pillow.
But as they refuse burial to the spirit of Voltaire, in order to insult him after death, so must I avail myself of this occasion to offer a last homage to the great poet, which will take place at four o'clock. Go to the mass, Herzberg, and tell me to-morrow how it went off whether the priests make right pious faces and burn much incense. Adieu. Au revoir, demain."
Henceforward the Russian people is wedded to liberty, and I trust that this union will give birth to many great souls for the glory of mankind. "demain," Geneva, July, 1917. Letter to "The Seven Arts," New York, October, 1916. I am delighted to learn of the creation of a magazine in which the American soul will become fully aware of its own individuality.
Now it was the voice of a laughing young mother: "Si tu as faim Manges ta main Et gardes l'autre pour demain; Et ta tete Pour le jour de fete; Et ton gros ortee Pour le Jour Saint Norbe" And again: "Let us pluck the bill of the lark, The lark from head to tail " He knew the voice. It was that of a young wife of the parish of St.
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