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"And that's final, my dear?" said I. She helped herself to salad with an air of bravura. She helped herself, to my surprise, to a prodigious amount of salad. "As final as death," she replied. There had been billed about the place a Grand Concert du Soir in the Casino de Royat. The celebrated tenor, M. Horatio Bakkus.
The political argument of his neighbors drew to an end with the end of their beer and they passed him on their way to the gate, each with a friendly glance and a "Bon soir, Monsieur" which Markham returned in kind. After that it was very quiet and restful under the trees.
"Until he repents humbly, and bows his vicious spirit to holy Church, and his heart to the mercy of God, I command you to avoid him as you would a plague. I command that no door be opened to him; that no one offer him comfort or friendship; that not even a bon jour or a bon soir pass between you. He has blasphemed against our Father in heaven; to the Church he is a leper." He turned to Pomfrette.
Il y a [he says] un épisode célèbre dans 'Le Rouge et Le Noir, la scène où Julien, assis un soir
A witness to the rapidity of this volte face were three consecutive articles by Edmond About in Le Soir. The first, written from his estate in Saverne, near Strassburg. was extremely bitter against the Emperor; it began: "Napoleone tertio feliciter regnante, as people said in the olden days, I have seen with my own eyes, what I never thought to see: Alsace overrun by the enemy's troops."
The living languages, French and Spanish, may there be learned by association and habit. Not a word is spoken but in the language intended to be taught. It is even the medium of instruction for every other branch. The Senats speak Spanish fluently. Bon soir. Washington, February 27, 1504.
'Pardon, madame, said my visitor, following and passing me; and then to the newcomer: 'What is it, Alice? 'It is Monsieur Duchatel who is arrived. 'Oh! with a disdainful gesture. 'Je m'en fiche. Let him go. 'But it is the nephew, my dear; not the uncle. 'Ah, the nephew! I come. Bon soir, madams, et bonne nuit. The two peignoirs fluttered down the stairs together.
The song says Bon soir, Madame de la Lune.... I did not sing out loud, simply because the moon was like a mademoiselle, and I did not want to offend the moon. My friends: the silhouette and la lune, not counting Ca Pue, whom I regarded almost as a part of me. The next day. Promise to M. Savy. Whang. "My pencil?" "You don't need any pencil, you're going away." "When?" "Directly." "How directly?"
They also insisted upon passing things that he could very well reach for himself, and their "bon soir, m'sieu'" was quite unfailing in its regularity. "This shaggy town may have a silver lining, after all," he would think; "but you've got to turn things inside out to find it." Near the exit Truesdale noticed Theodore Brower sitting with a demi-tasse before him.
"What a pity you should be a police spy and upon so hopeless a case." "Hopeless cases are my delight, madame. Believe me, I shall not fail." "Only three days, remember, cher ami only three days!" "Madame is too kind. I have said it: two will do. On the morning of the third madame's passport will be ready and the Rainbow Pearl be in the royal jewellers' hands. A thousand pleasant dreams, bon soir!"
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