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Updated: May 20, 2025
Two policemen whom he knew came by and advised him to get up, but he argued the question from a standpoint of personal taste, and they passed on, laughing. For he was at that moment absorbed in a problem. It was, how to see Rue Barree. She was somewhere or other in that big house with the iron balconies, and the door was locked, but what of that? The simple idea struck him to shout until she came.
The rose was big and red. It glowed like fire there over her heart, and like fire it warmed her heart, now fluttering under the silken petals. Rue Barree sighed again. She was very happy. The sky was so blue, the air so soft and perfumed, the sunshine so caressing, and her heart sang within her, sang to the rose in her breast.
This idea was replaced by another equally lucid, to hammer on the door until she came; but finally rejecting both of these as too uncertain, he decided to climb into the balcony, and opening a window politely inquire for Rue Barree. There was but one lighted window in the house that he could see. It was on the second floor, and toward this he cast his eyes.
Forty times a day he blessed Rue Barree for her refusal, and thanked his lucky stars, and at the same time, oh, wondrous heart of ours! he suffered the tortures of the blighted. Elliott was annoyed, partly by Clifford's reticence, partly by the unexplainable thaw in the frigidity of Rue Barree.
"What's her name this time?" asked Elliott, and Rowden answered promptly, "Name, Yvette; nationality, Breton " "Wrong," replied Clifford blandly, "it's Rue Barree." The subject changed instantly, and Selby listened in surprise to names which were new to him, and eulogies on the latest Prix de Rome winner.
"Until the next came along." "But this, this is really very different. Elliott, believe me, I am all broken up." Then there being nothing else to do, Elliott gnashed his teeth and listened. "It's it's Rue Barree."
When Clifford finished, he finished in a glow of excitement, but Rue Barree's response was long in coming and his ardour cooled while the situation slowly assumed its just proportions. Then regret began to creep in, but he put that aside and broke out again in protestations. At the first word Rue Barree checked him. "I thank you," she said, speaking very gravely.
Then two big mouse-coloured pigeons came whistling by and alighted on the terrace, where they bowed and strutted and bobbed and turned until Rue Barree laughed in delight, and looking up beheld Clifford before her. His hat was in his hand and his face was wreathed in a series of appealing smiles which would have touched the heart of a Bengal tiger.
"Rue Barree," began Clifford, drawing himself up, but he suddenly ceased, for there where the dappled sunlight glowed in spots of gold, along the sun-flecked path, tripped Rue Barree. Her gown was spotless, and her big straw hat, tipped a little from the white forehead, threw a shadow across her eyes. Elliott stood up and bowed.
Something in the song of the caged bird may have moved him, or perhaps it was that dangerous sweetness in the air of May. At first he was hardly conscious that he had stopped then he was scarcely conscious why he had stopped, then he thought he would move on, then he thought he wouldn't, then he looked at Rue Barree. The gardener said, "Mademoiselle, this is undoubtedly a fine pot of pansies."
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