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The sullenness of a long wet day is yielding just now to an outburst of watery sunset, which strikes from the far horizon of this quiet world of ours, over fields and willow-woods, upon the shifty weather-vanes and long-pointed windows of the tower on the square from which the Angelus is sounding-with a momentary promise of a fine night. I prefer the Salut at Saint Vaast.
He was a thin, rather handsome, dissolute-looking fellow of middle height and about forty, in dandified dress. His glossy black hair fell carelessly over his smooth forehead from under a soft, wide-awake hat. "Manitou for ever!" he cried, with a flourish of his hand. "I salute the brave. I escort the brave to the gates of Manitou. I escort the brave. I escort the brave. Salut! Salut! Salut!
Those of le Salut Public only loosened their hold for a while, were nobly magnanimous for a day, quite prepared to be doubly ferocious the next. In the meanwhile let us heartily rejoice! The Scarlet Pimpernel is in France or will be very soon, and on an appointed day he will present himself conveniently to the soldiers of the Republic for capture and for subsequent guillotine.
The Virgin, who had tensed unconsciously till her muscles hurt her, relaxed. While French Louis murmured reverently: "M'sieu Daylight, salut! Ay am one beeg baby. You are one beeg man." Daylight dropped his burden, leaped to the floor, and headed for the bar. "Weigh in!" he cried, tossing his sack to the weigher, who transferred to it four hundred dollars from the sacks of the two losers.
Instant punishment will follow the slightest delay on the road. "Salut et Fraternite." There was no choice but obedience, and off I sped on my weary way to the capital. As I was riding out of the Paris gate I met an equipage which I knew to be that of Schneider. The ruffian smiled at me as I passed, and wished me a bon voyage.
"Salut, my dear Haviland, salut Messieurs. Oh! my dear Genest, how goes it?" offering his hand, which Zotique took with a caricature of extravagant joy and imitation of the other's style: "My dear Small-pox pardon me my dear friend, I am charmed to meet again a man of so much sense and honor."
We may instance the works of Tolstoi, who envelops his socialism with the doctrine of "non-resistance to evil by violent means," drawn from the Sermon on the Mount. Tolstoi is also an eloquent anti-militarist, and I am pleased to see quoted in his book le Salut est en vous, Paris, 1894, a passage from one of my lectures against war.
The twilight hours advance from long landshadows, dispersed, lagging, languideyed, their cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom. MAGINNI: Avant huit! Traversé! Salut! Cours de mains! Croisé! Morning, noon and twilight hours retreat before them. They are masked, with daggered hair and bracelets of dull bells. THE BRACELETS: Heigho! Heigho!
Of olive complexion, small cherry mouth and features, yet fine head and person, and smiling benignly, he advanced a step before Chrysler noticed him. "Salut, M'sieu L'Honorable," bowed Haviland. "Good-day, Chamilly," he replied quickly, without ceasing to smile directly towards the other man and holding out his hand. Chrysler looked closer at his features. "Ah, Mr.
Markham glanced at her and then quickly poured out a glass of wine, brought it to her, and in spite of her protests made her drink. "Stolen," she muttered between sips. "It's no less useful because of that," he said, coolly helping himself. "It's medicine for both of us. We've had eighteen hours to-day. Salut, Yvonne! We'll pay for it some day." "To whom?"
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