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"La Mouche," naturally, had a very poor opinion of Madame Heine, and you need not be a cynic to enjoy this passage with which she opens her famous remembrances of "The Last Days of Heinrich Heine": "When I first saw Heinrich Heine he lived on the fifth floor of a house situated on the Avenue Matignon, not far from the Rond-Point of the Champs-Elysees.
"You will mount your horse." "Yes, sire." "And you will proceed to the Rond-point du Bois-Rochin. Do you know the spot?" "Yes, sire. I have fought there twice." "What!" exclaimed the king, amazed at the reply. "Under the edicts, sire, of Cardinal Richelieu," returned D'Artagnan, with his usual impassability. "That is very different, monsieur.
Before replying, Michu looked at his dog, which had been lying in the sun, its paws stretched out and its nose on its paws, in the charming attitude of a trained hunter. The animal had just raised its head and was snuffing the air, first down the avenue nearly a mile long which stretched before them, and then up the cross road where it entered the rond-point to the left.
They had hired a small suite on the Avenue Gabriel, near the 'rond-point' of the Champs Elysees the dream of the young women at the Le Mire establishment two luxuriously furnished, quiet rooms, where the silence of the wealthy quarter, disturbed only by passing carriages, formed a blissful surrounding for their love.
After I had been walking for an hour from the Marly horses to the Rond-Point, I saw Marguerite's carriage in the distance; I divined rather than recognised it. As it was turning the corner of the Champs-Elysees it stopped, and a tall young man left a group of people with whom he was talking and came up to her.
They had hired a small suite on the Avenue Gabriel, near the 'rond-point' of the Champs Elysees the dream of the young women at the Le Mire establishment two luxuriously furnished, quiet rooms, where the silence of the wealthy quarter, disturbed only by passing carriages, formed a blissful surrounding for their love.
Then I saw him again coming down one of the chestnut alleys of the Cours la Reine. I left the river-side, plunged blindly across to the Champs Elysees and turned toward the Arc. The setting sun was sending its rays along the green sward of the Rond-point: in the full glow he sat on a bench, children and young mothers all about him. He was nothing but a Sunday lounger, like the others, like myself.
The cart was slowly making its way up the incline. At this early hour of the morning the avenue, with its double lines of iron chairs on either pathway, and its lawns, dotted with flowerbeds and clumps of shrubbery, stretching away under the blue shadows of the trees, was quite deserted; however, at the Rond-Point a lady and gentleman on horseback passed the cart at a gentle trot.
They had hired a small suite on the Avenue Gabriel, near the 'rond-point' of the Champs Elysees the dream of the young women at the Le Mire establishment two luxuriously furnished, quiet rooms, where the silence of the wealthy quarter, disturbed only by passing carriages, formed a blissful surrounding for their love.
"See! that's where our corporal was thrown," said the man, pointing to a spot where the road they were following entered the rond-point. "Tell the captain to come and pick me up at Michu's, and I'll go with him to Troyes." So saying Corentin got down, and stood about for a few minutes examining the ground.
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