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"I wish, Therese, when you go down you would tell Anna I don't want she should put the real lace table-cloth from Miss Becky's party last night in the linen-room. Twice I've told her after its use she should always bring it right back to me." "Oui, madame." And Therese flashed out on the slim heels.
Therese sought the bite that Camille had given in the stiff, swollen neck of Laurent, and passionately pressed her lips to it. There was the raw sore; this wound once healed, and the murderers would sleep in peace. The young woman understood this, and she endeavoured to cauterise the bad place with the fire of her caresses.
He replied: "If the poor little plant comes into bloom it will die." Therese, when she left him, placed a coin on the table. Dechartre was near her. Gravely, almost severely, he said to her: "You know . . . " She looked at him and waited. He finished his phrase: " . . . that I love you?" She continued to fix on him, silently, the gaze of her clear eyes, the lids of which were trembling.
And there, before the Virgin who, in the pale sky, receives from God the Father the immortal crown, he took Therese in his arms and placed a kiss on her lips, almost in view of two Englishwomen who were walking through the corridors, consulting their Baedeker. She said to him: "We must not forget Saint Anthony's cell."
What a pity we must part so soon, for, I leave you to-day; nor shall I have the pleasure of seeing you again until I bring you a decree of divorce." "You will be most welcome," returned Therese, calmly. "Now be so good as to escort me to my carriage." "Pray give me your arm. I have but one more observation to make.
I have always thought that Monsieur Choulette resembled Socrates." Therese asked the cobbler to tell his name and his history. His name was Serafino Stoppini, and he was a native of Stia. He was old. He had had much trouble in his life. He lifted his spectacles to his forehead, uncovering blue eyes, very soft, and almost extinguished under their red lids.
Therese had exhausted me, so I did not go any further, but the girl no doubt attributed my self-restraint to the fact that the door was open. I dressed carefully, and made myself look less weary, and to freshen myself up I had a long drive in an open carriage. When I returned, I found the Marquis of Triulzi teasing the countess as usual.
She grows suddenly so white that Monsieur le Blanc, the épicier of the Rue des Bons Enfants, takes her into his daughter's room and makes her lie down on the little sofa. Marie lies there with widely-opened eyes, wondering how she shall get back to St. Gertrude. "You are to lie still till Thérèse comes back from market," the old man says, "and then she will arrange about your going home."
Laurent determined he would kill Therese because she stood in his way, because she might ruin him by a word, and because she caused him unbearable suffering. Therese made up her mind that she would kill Laurent, for the same reasons. The firm resolution to commit another murder somewhat calmed them. They formed their plans.
I hear all about their doings from Therese and Constance," he added gleefully. The old man looked like a lover who is still young enough to be made happy by the discovery of some little stratagem which brings him information of his lady-love without her knowledge. "You will see them both!" he said, giving artless expression to a pang of jealousy. "I do not know," answered Eugene.
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