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Madame entered the salon, her light quick steps ringing on the parquet, her holiday voice clear as a carol, her holiday figure gay as a showy-plumaged bird. "Ma chérie, tu n'es pas sortie? tu ne fais rien?" Bessie awoke from her reverie, and confessed that she was idle this morning, very idle and uncomfortably restless: it was the heat, she thought, and she breathed a vast sigh.
At Plate 33, Robert is still a journalist; he brings to the editor of a paper an article of his composition, a violent attack on a law. "My dear M. Macaire," says the editor, "this must be changed; we must PRAISE this law." "Bon, bon!" says our versatile Macaire. "Je vais retoucher ca, et je vous fais en faveur de la loi UN ARTICLE MOUSSEUX." Can such things be?
Peggy's eyes twinkled. "I sleep," she said slowly, "and eat, and sleep a little more, and eat again, and talk a little bit, roll into bed, and fall fast asleep. Voila tout, ma chere! C'est ca que je fais tous les jours." Rosalind gave a shriek of laughter at Peggy's French, and Mellicent rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "How s-imply lovely!" she sighed. "I wish I were you!
So saying, the old fellow laid hold of a bulky manuscript book. "Listen," he cried, "listen. It is St. Fabricius addressing the Proconsul Flavius: Achève, fais dresser l'appareil souhaité De ma mort, ou plutôt de ma félicité. Le Roi des Rois, du haut de son céleste trône, Déj
It seemed to touch something latent within the man, something rare; for his whole expression changed; and there was a caress in his look and voice none of the men could have believed possible as he exclaimed: "Fais moin bo, piti." She pouted up her pretty lips and kissed his black moustache. He spoke to her again: "Dis moin to nom, piti; dis moin to nom, chere."
He did not come into Paris, but in order to avoid demonstrations, noise, etc., had a platform put up on the other side of the station at St. Cloud, where the Empress and her ladies could say their adieux without the crowd looking on. The last words the Empress said to her son were, "Louis, fais ton devoir." She is made the Regent during the absence of the Emperor. 30th August.
La premiere fois i'en auois six, puis douze, puis quinze, puis vingt et davantage; ie leur fais dire le Pater, Aue, et Credo, etc. . . . . Nous finissons par le Pater Noster, que i'ay compose quasi en rimes en leur langue, que ie leur fais chanter: et pour derniere conclusion, ie leur fais donner chacun vne escuellee de pois, qu'ils mangent de bon appetit," etc.
If need were, she would do the same to-morrow, by a crippled beggar, willingly and gladly, but by him, she would do it, just as bravely, in spite of his deductions, and the cold slime of women's impertinence. She did it because it was right, and simple, and true to save where she could save; even to try to save. 'Fais ce que dois, advienne que pourra.
Pulling up suddenly before an apparently unbroken line of trees, he craned his neck first one way and then the other in search of an opening, unheeding the expostulations in French and English with which he was assailed, until, finding what he sought, and nicking his whip over the horses' ears, he condescended to reply, "Je fais le detour! Bad, voila!"
She had her hand upon the handle of the door when a boy with little flasks of wine in a basket came up and asked her to buy, and as she answered him she heard the cry of "Partenza!" It was too late; the moment had passed, and after a while she knew that she was glad she had not yielded. She was doing the right thing. What was the old French motto? "Fais ce que doit, advienne que pourra."
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