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It is a foreign fashion, and we are Englishmen; therefore I protest against it. I will take my leave of you by parodying Mercutio's words: Ladies and gentlemen, bon soir; there's a French salutation for you." So saying he walked off the stage, leaving the audience rather surprised; and so was I. I think he is laboring under an incipient bilious attack.
Le soir tombe. . . . L’heure douce Qui s’èloigne sans secousse, Pose
As I passed him he raised his hat and gave me a courteous "Bon soir, monsieur." I returned his salute and answered "Bon soir, sire." "Ah, ha!" said His Majesty, like a pleased child, "vous me connaissez alors?" I responded that everybody knew the King of the Belgians and I added that I had never ventured to enter His Majesty's dominions without carrying his portrait with me.
There was an agony of hostile dismay in the look, and the trembling and appealing tone with which, taking the frightened mother's cheeks between her palms, she said: "Ah! ma mère, qui vini 'ci ce soir?" Who is coming here this evening? "Why, my dear child, I was just saying, we like a clean" But the daughter was desperate: "Oh, tell me, my mother, who is coming?"
Otherwise he would never have escaped without another offer of a hot-water bottle, a pot of home-made marmalade, or a rug and pillow for his bed. He made his way downstairs into the street unnoticed; but just as he reached the bottom his thundering tread betrayed him. The door flew open at the top. 'Bon soir, bonne nuit, screamed the voice; 'wait a moment and I'll get the lamp.
"He said also," I continued, "'Tell Babette I weep with her." She was very still and dazed; her fingers went to her white lips, and stayed there for a moment. I never saw such a numb misery in any face. "And last of all, he said, 'Ah, mon grand homme de Calvaire bon soir!"
The elegant, the unpretentious, the quiet soir,e to which the woman of fashion shall welcome the litt,rateur and the artist, the aristocrat who is at the top of the social tree and the millionaire who reached his culmination yesterday, would seem to be that Ultima Thule for which all people have been sighing ever since society was first thought of.
For generations he and his had been the equals of the best people they had met in France and in Haiti; they had been guests at the dinners of ministers and at the soir<e'>es of savants in the French capital; there was nothing about them of that deprecatory sort which one sees so constantly in men and women with African blood in their veins in lands where their race has recently been held in servitude.
They began with a little prayer to ceux qui ecoutent, and then each of them placed a finger on the rim of the upturned saucer, waiting in silence. They were a study in darkness, those three pointing fingers. 'Zizi, tu as beaucoup de fluide ce soir, oui? whispered the widow after a considerable interval. 'Oh, comme d'habitude, he shrugged his shoulders.
Bon soir, Graham!" "She's the only creature in the whole world that calls me Editha and Tibby Elizabeth," cried Gyp disgustedly. "That's why I just can't endure her!" Safe in Jerry's room, Gyp cast off her "company" manner by a series of somersaults on the pink-and-white bed. "Hurray, Jerry, we needn't see her again until to-morrow night! That Peregrine-Sarah will take her breakfast up on a tray.
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