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"Oh no; only don't let me down too fast." "That must depend on how heavy you are. We can't keep dangling you between sky and earth all night. Come; you are not nearly as heavy as your brother. Adieu, mon cher; bon voyage!" "Adieu, madame; mille remerciments." I thought of St. Paul in the basket, and the two Israelitish spies.
He gave a cry and made as if to jump out of the way, but with a laugh Magor threw his whole weight on the handspike, the great timber slid swiftly down and crushed Dugard from his thighs to his feet, breaking his legs terribly. The old man called down at him: "A slip a little accident, mon ami!"
He was a feeble man the only weak man, it would appear, in the room. "Then stay and pray if you want to," answered Mogente, without even troubling himself to show contempt. The notary was at his table again, and seemed to seek his cue by an upward glance. "You will, perhaps, leave your fortune," he suggested at length, "to to some good work." But Evasio Mon was shaking his head.
All the young men had gone away from Cape Breton; might get rich if they would stay and work the farms. But no one liked to work nowadays. From life, we diverted the talk to literature. We inquired what books they had. "Of course you all have the poems of Burns?" "What's the name o' the mon?" "Burns, Robert Burns." "Never heard tell of such a mon. Have heard of Robert Bruce. He was a Scotchman."
I caught a sound as of a partially suppressed sob behind me, but before I could turn sufficiently to ascertain the cause, the Chevalier sprang past, rocking the little boat furiously, and my ears overheard that which caused me to keep my face set the other way. "Eloise!" he exclaimed exultantly. "Are you here, little wife? Mon Dieu!
"But not so terrible as death," cried Kent, suddenly growing rigid against his pillows. "Great God, mon pere, I want to live! Oh " He snatched his hand free and stretched forth both arms to the open window. "Look at it out there! My world again! MY WORLD! I want to go back to it. It's ten times more precious to me now than it was. Why should I blame Cardigan? Mon pere mon pere listen to me.
"Keep its lunge for the Arbicos, mon ami," said Cigarette brusquely the more brusquely because that new and bitter pang was on her. "As for me, I want no thanks." "No; you are too generous. But not the less do I wish I could render them more worthily than by words. If I live, I will try; if not, keep this in my memory. It is the only thing I have."
Then there fell on her listening ears a phrase uttered very clearly in Madame Poulain's resonant voice: "C'est ton tour maintenant! Vas-y, mon ami!"
"What is the name of this witch?" "I do not know," she replied. "And what is she said to have done?" She shrugged her white shoulders. "I know not." "Oh, mon Dieu Jesus!" said her mother; "there are so many witches nowadays that I dare say they burn them without knowing their names. One might as well seek the name of every cloud in the sky. After all, one may be tranquil.
But if you want the dress, take it, take it! Mon Dieu! what a state your nerves must be in!" "I'm much better than when I came here," said Miss Cordova quickly. "Say, Pauline, did you know I thought of sending for the children?" "Your children? To come here?" "Yes. Now, Pauline, it sounds queer, I know, and worse than anything I've ever done, yet it isn't as bad as it sounds.
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