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It measures two feet seven inches in length by one foot ten inches in breadth and weighs seventy three pounds. It is ornamented with brass plates; on each side of the binding, we may observe the armorial bearings of the abbey of Saint-Ouen, which are also of brass. This manuscript contains about two hundred vignettes, initials of all sizes, and also a great number of gilt letters.

Latterly the young couple almost invariably took Laurent with them. He enlivened the excursion by his laughter and strength of a peasant. One Sunday, Camille, Therese and Laurent left for Saint-Ouen after breakfast, at about eleven o'clock. The outing had been projected a long time, and was to be the last of the season.

The Grande Etape was reached; the mist was so dense that the lofty outlines of the Pinnacle were scarcely visible. They heard it strike ten from the belfry of Saint-Ouen, a sign that the wind was still aft. All was going well; the sea grew rougher, because they were drawing near La Corbière.

Surely a pair of boots are not as agreeable to your eyes as a fine play at the theatre; and you don't prefer a windmill to the church of Saint-Ouen, do you? Well then, nations are imbued with the same feelings as the individual man, and the man's cherished desire is to survive himself morally just as he propagates himself physically. The survival of a people is the work of its men of genius.

The modern building which stands near the northern transept of the church of Saint-Ouen was the dormitory of the monks. It is now the town hall. The offices occupy the ground and first floor, the library and gallery of paintings the second. The great stair-case is remarkable for its elegance and lightness; it has been compared to that at Somerset house.

He loved this Norman Rouen, loved the battered splendour of Nôtre-Dame Cathedral, loved the church of Saint-Ouen that miracle of the Gothic, with its upspringing turrets, its portal as perfect as a Bach fugue. And in the Solferino Garden he paid his tribute of flowers at the monuments of Maupassant and Flaubert.

At these thoughts Madame Raquin felt a tightening at the throat, and she hoped she was going to die, strangled by despair. Old Michaud hastened to withdraw. Leaving Suzanne behind to look after the mercer, he and Olivier went to find Laurent, so that they might hurry to Saint-Ouen with all speed. During the journey, they barely exchanged a few words.

It was bitterly cold and we stood before the open grave, just in front of a railway embankment, in an out of the way cemetery of Saint-Ouen, the cemetery called Cayenne, because the dead are "deported" thither. We were but four faithful ones. Yes, four, but amongst these four must be included a young man, bare-headed and wearing the uniform of an officer, who stood by the deceased man's son.

She fancied that the wound Therese had received through the fatal accident at Saint-Ouen, was still as fresh, still as cruel at the bottom of her heart. It seemed to her that her son, once dead, Therese could have no thought for a husband, and here was Michaud affirming, with a hearty laugh, that Therese was out of sorts because she wanted one.

As we were quitting the cemetery, a worthy man, a song-writer, observed to me: "Well, if all those whom Léon Plée helped during his lifetime had remembered him when he was dead, this little Campo Santo of Saint-Ouen would not have been large enough to hold them all!" Doubtless. But they did not remember him.