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'A peine y etoíent-elles arrivées, que M. de Marson parut dans un Canot, un chapeau gris sur la tête; & ayant appris ce qui s'etoit passé, assûra qu'il ne pouvoit pas comprendre comment la Sauvagesse avoit pû sçavoir l'heure & le jour de son arrivée.
There is another shop opposite, where we stop every evening; it is that of Madame L'Heure, the woman who sells waffles; we always buy a provision from her, to refresh us on the way. A very lively young woman is this pastry-cook, and most eager to make herself agreeable; she looks quite like a screen picture behind her piled-up cakes, ornamented with little posies.
Pour un chef politique, il avait un grave défaut. Sa mémoire des visages était très faible. Il se rencontra une fois en Ecosse chez un ami commun avec le jeune Lord D...., depuis comte de S.... Le jeune homme lui plut par sa personne et par ses opinions whig. Quand vint l'heure de la séparation, Lord John dit
There is another shop opposite, where we stop every evening; it is that of Madame L'Heure, the woman who sells waffles; we always buy a provision from her, to refresh us on the way. A very lively young woman is this pastry-cook, and most eager to make herself agreeable; she looks quite like a screen picture behind her piled-up cakes, ornamented with little posies.
"C'est l'heure de la lecture," remarked my guide; and a group of conva- lescents all the patients I saw were women were gathered in the centre around a nun, the points of whose white hood nodded a little above them, and whose gentle voice came to us faintly, with a little echo, down the high perspective.
The anecdote is told in Menagiana, iii. 104, but not of a 'maid of honour, nor as an instance of 'exquisite flattery. 'M. d'Uzès était chevalier d'honneur de la reine. Cette princesse lui demanda un jour quelle heure il était; il répondit, "Madame, l'heure qu'il plaira
But when the vehicle was well on its way, and he had behind him the sad Calvary where his honour hung gibbeted, Jansoulet, utterly overcome, laid his head on his mother's shoulder, hid it in the old green shawl, and there, with the burning tears flowing, all his great body shaken by sobs, he returned to the cry of his childhood: "Mother." Que l'heure est donc breve, Qu'on passe en aimant!
See you this evening, Bob's asked me to supper." A servant was sweeping Bob Brindley's porch and the front door was open. I went in. The sound of the piano guided me to the drawing-room. Brindley, the morning cigarette between his lips, was playing one of Maurice Ravel's "L'heure espagnole." He held his head back so as to keep the smoke out of his eyes.
Her death, I fear, was a great misfortune to our parent. I have gathered that they suited each other fate, you know, plays these little tricks. Your mother, I am sure, was a most charming and admirable woman I remember her portrait. A l'heure qu'il est, no doubt, it has to be kept out of sight. She had, I am given to understand, a trilling capital of her own, and this was to become yours."
I quote a few words; though even in them the spirit in which the whole book is conceived does not fail to make itself felt: L'heure ou une creation nouvelle recoit son nom est solennelle; car le nom est le signe definitif de l'existence. C'est par le nom qu'un etre individuel ou collectif devient lui-meme, et sort d'un autre.
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