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To have his picture displayed like that, think how it will help M. Dubois!" Mrs. De Peyster gave Olivetta a sharp look, as though she questioned the entire disinterestedness of this argument; then she considered an instant; and in the main it was her human instinct to help a struggling fellow being that dictated her decision. "Matilda, you may give the man a photograph of the picture.
My friend in deerskin is Armand Dubois, born a Canadian of good French stock, and a most valiant and trustworthy man. As for me, I am Raymond Louis de St. Luc, Chevalier of France and soldier of fortune in the New World. And now you know the list of us. It's not so long as Homer's catalogue of the ships, nor so interesting, but it's complete."
The Archbishop of Cambrai, whom I shall continue to call the Abbe Dubois, was just then very anxiously looking out for his cardinal's hat, which he was to obtain through the favour of England, acting upon that of the Emperor with the Court of Rome.
At any rate, another great transformation had taken place in this extremely impressionable young creature. Barbara's impetuous nature seemed destroyed and crushed, and the bright gaiety which had pleased Frau Dubois so much the first day of their meeting had greatly diminished.
"Do you know where he has gone?" asked the employé. "No," answered Ducoudray. "I will tell you; to play at bowls at the Champs-Elysées, or at Porcherons." The employé was wrong; he had neither gone to the Champs-Elysées nor to Porcherons. He had gone to Dubois. "M. Jean Buvat," said the usher.
"Oh, my place that is another thing, monseigneur; it brings me in nothing at all, seeing that for five years the cashier has told us at the end of each month that the king was too poor to pay us." "And you still remained in the service of his majesty? that was well done, M. Buvat; that was well done." Buvat rose, saluted Dubois, and reseated himself.
Hill, proprietor of the Monthly Mirror; but at his house at Sydenham I used to meet his editor, Mr. Dubois, Mr. Campbell, who was his neighbour, and the two Smiths, authors of The Rejected Addresses. Once or twice I saw also Mr. Theodore Hook, and Mr. Matthews, the comedian.
Hurts a town, a thing like this," continued Symes feelingly, "gets in all the eastern papers, and when we appear in print we wish it to be in connection with something creditable." The banker agreed absent-mindedly, and asked "Do you know her this Mrs. Dubois?" "In a way as one person knows another in a small town" he hesitated delicately "not socially at all. She was never in society."
No one had seen the Seigneur enter from the little room beside the shop, and at the sound of the sharp voice the people fell back, for he was as free with his stick as his tongue. "I do," said the grocer, to whom Paulette Dubois had told her story. "Ye shall be tarred and feathered before y'are a day older," said Mary Flynn. Rosalie was very pale.
You must pack a few belongings in a green tin box and betake yourself to the Jolies Femmes. Do not make any inquiries about Gros Jean. Simply watch him." "But what about the Turks?" said Talbot. "Perhaps two of these scoundrels may be the identical pair who accompanied Dubois to Albert Gate. It is possible that they may recognize me at once." "No," said Brett decisively. "This is a different gang.
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