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Updated: September 2, 2025
"Audrey, do you know aught of one Elizabeth Foulkes?" "Liz'beth What-did-you-say?" inquired Mrs Wastborowe, hastily drying her arms on her apron, and coming forward. "Elizabeth Foulkes," repeated the Bailiff. "What, yon lass o' Clere's the clothier? Oh, ay, you'll find her in Balcon Lane, at the Magpie. A tall, well-favoured young maid she is might be a princess, to look at her.
"For shame, Xavier," cried Nick; "and you are balked by such things?" Xavier thought this an exceedingly good joke, and he took his pipe out of his mouth to laugh the better. "Me? Mais non, Michie. And yet ze Alcalde, he mek me afraid. Once he put me in ze calaboose when I tried to climb ze balcon'." Nick roared.
Cade's' stood in the balcon and saw all the funeral, which was with the blue-coat boys and old men, all the Aldermen, and Lord Mayor, &c., and the number of the company very great; the greatest I ever did see for a taverne. Hither come up to us Dr. Allen, and then Mr. Povy and Mr. Fox. The show being over, and my discourse with Mr.
She was really getting now the food for her life during the next week. He made her copy Baudelaire's "Le Balcon". Then he read it for her. His voice was soft and caressing, but growing almost brutal. He had a way of lifting his lips and showing his teeth, passionately and bitterly, when he was much moved. This he did now. It made Miriam feel as if he were trampling on her.
"The sale was announced for one o'clock. I wore a thick veil, for I did not wish to be recognised; the concierge of course knew me, but she can be depended upon. The poor old woman was in tears, so sorry was she to see all your pretty things sold up. You left owing her a hundred francs, but I have paid her; and talking of you we waited till the auctioneer arrived. Everything had been pulled down; the tapestry from the walls, the picture, the two vases I gave you were on the table waiting the stroke of the hammer. And then the men, all the marchands de meubles in the quartier, came upstairs, spitting and talking coarsely their foul voices went through me. They stamped, spat, pulled the things about, nothing escaped them. One of them held up the Japanese dressing-gown and made some horrible jokes; and the auctioneer, who was a humorist, answered, "If there are any ladies' men present, we shall have some spirited bidding." The pastel I bought, and I shall keep it and try to find some excuse to satisfy my husband, but I send you the miniature, and I hope you will not let it be sold again. There were many other things I should have liked to have bought but I did not dare the organ that you used to play hymns on and I waltzes on, the Turkish lamp which we could never agree about ... but when I saw the satin shoes which I gave you to carry the night of that adorable ball, and which you would not give back, but nailed up on the wall on either side of your bed and put matches in, I was seized with an almost invincible desire to steal them. I don't know why, un caprice de femme. No one but you would have ever thought of converting satin shoes into match boxes. I wore them at that delicious ball; we danced all night together, and you had an explanation with my husband (I was a little afraid for a moment, but it came out all right), and we went and sat on the balcony in the soft warm moonlight; we watched the glitter of epaulets and gas, the satin of the bodices, the whiteness of passing shoulders; we dreamed the massy darknesses of the park, the fairy light along the lawny spaces, the heavy perfume of the flowers, the pink of the camellias; and you quoted something: 'les camélias du balcon ressemblent
A year since, as I was smoking my cigar in the "Estaminet du Grand Balcon," an excellent smoking-shop, where the tobacco is unexceptionable, and the Hollands of singular merit, a dark-looking, thick-set man, in a greasy well-cut coat, with a shabby hat, cocked on one side of his dirty face, took the place opposite me, at the little marble table, and called for brandy.
He used effects analogous to those of the poets, and employed the admirable order of certain pieces of Baudelaire, such as Irreparable and le Balcon, where the last of the five lines composing the strophe is the echo of the first verse and returns, like a refrain, to steep the soul in infinite depths of melancholy and languor.
A curious incident occurred during the representation. Two ladies gentlewomen they could not be correctly styled being seated in the balcon, were brought in closer contact, whether by the crowd, or otherwise, than was agreeable to them.
Il y a la un long balcon d'ou l'on voit le fort courant du Rhin qui passe sous l'ancien pont. Je me rappelle qu'a l'extremite de ce pont, du cote oppose, il y avait une brasserie ou, en buvant son verre de biere, on pouvait regarder l'eau qui coulait toujours, et si vite. "A Lucerne, j'ai vu egalement couler la Reuss sous l'ancien pont ou l'on voit la Danse de la Mort. Mr.
They drove in at the North Gate, down Balcon Lane, with a passing greeting to Amy Clere, who was taking down mantles at the shop door, and whose whole face lighted up at the sight, and turned through the great archway into the courtyard of the King's Head.
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