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"What are you talking of?" asked Edith, "Madame Tussaud or a French salad? No matter how trivial the topic, I am sure it has a foreign flavor." "There you are mistaken," replied the frank Eric, "we were discussing you two people, in the most homelike kind of a way."
Roch with his dog and shells, St. John the Baptist in his sheepskin, and, most ridiculous of all, poor Vincent de Paul carrying three naked children in his arms, like a midwife's advertisement. This frightful exhibition, which was of the nature of the Tussaud Museum or a masquerade, positively frightened Amedee.
Their companions, at the sound of this, gave them, in a spacious intermission of slow talk, an attention, all of gravity, that was like an ampler submission to the general duty of magnificence; sitting as still, to be thus appraised, as a pair of effigies of the contemporary great on one of the platforms of Madame Tussaud. "I'm so glad for your last look."
'What's an appointment? inquired his friend, a town young man, with a Tussaud complexion and well-pencilled brows half way up his forehead, so that his upper eyelids appeared to possess the uncommon quality of tallness. 'Look out here, and you'll see. By that directing-post, where the two roads meet.
Paul's and the Abbey, to say nothing of the Zoological Gardens, almost close at hand and with which we took in that age of lingering forms no liberty of abbreviation; to say nothing either of Madame Tussaud's, then in our interminable but so amiable Baker Street, the only shade on the amiability of which was just that gruesome association with the portal of the Bazaar since Madame Tussaud had, of all her treasures, most vividly revealed to me the Mrs.
Roch with his dog and shells, St. John the Baptist in his sheepskin, and, most ridiculous of all, poor Vincent de Paul carrying three naked children in his arms, like a midwife's advertisement. This frightful exhibition, which was of the nature of the Tussaud Museum or a masquerade, positively frightened Amedee.
Pickwick's night-capped head peeping out, and the lean presentment of the lady herself, all, say, in wax, a la Tussaud. What a show and attraction that would be! The author's ingenuity was never at fault in the face of a difficulty. Mr. Pickwick was to be got to Nupkins' in a sedan chair, a grotesque incident; but then, what to do with Tupman, also arrested?
And so she has married a clergyman without a penny. Dear, dear! Did not you say she was very beautiful?" "Lovely!" "Let me see, you went and saw her, didn't you?" "I went to her twice, and got quite scolded about it. Plantagenet said that if I wanted horrors I'd better go to Madame Tussaud. Didn't he, Madame Max?" Madame Max smiled and nodded her head.
"Oh, we'll get up Madame Tussaud for her at home, free gratis, for nothing at all!" cried Armine, whose hard work inspirited him to fun and frolic. So in the twilight hour two days later there was a grand exhibition of human waxworks, in which Babie explained tableaux represented by the two Johns, Armine, and Cecil, supposed to be adapted to Lina's capacity.
"Well, what should she like to see?" cried Cecil. "I'm good for anything you want to go to before the others are free." "The Ethiopian serenaders, or, may be, Punch," said Jock. "Madame Tussaud would be too intellectual." "When Lina is strong enough she is to see Madame Tussaud," said Essie gravely. "Georgie once went, and she has wished for it ever since."
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