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Updated: June 24, 2025
To his great surprise he could not detach himself from the causeuse. He then understood that he was the sport of a superior power. “Let us see,” he said to Roger. “What will you take to let me go? Do you wish me to prolong your life ten years?” “J’ai de bon tabac dans ma tabatière,” sang the great golfer. “Will you take twenty years?” “Il pleut, il pleut, bergère; Rentre tes blancs moutons.”
She made herself a cup of tea and then lay down on the sofa where her mother had lain the day before, and went to sleep. She dreamed that she stood in a sloping, very green meadow; in the distance a flock of dingy sheep browsed, and some invisible person was playing a pipe! "Il etait une bergère hé ron, ron, ron," it was the nursery song Joyselle had played to Tommy when the little boy was ill.
The tiled floor was badly covered by an infamous carpet, and the furniture, very simple, consisted of a round dining-room table, some old bergère armchairs covered with slate-blue Utrecht velours, a little stained walnut sideboard on which were several plates and pitchers of Breton faience, and opposite the sideboard a little black bookcase, which might contain fifty books.
Through some other indirections we at last found the Rue Bergere, down which I went with J in quest of Hottinguer et Co., the bankers, while the rest of us went along the Boulevards, towards the Church of the Madeleine. . . . This business accomplished, J and I threaded our way back, and overtook the rest of the party, still a good distance from the Madeleine.
"Naturally; bring Madame whatever she requires," he replied indifferently. With a toss of the head she departed, hostility in every inch of her stiff body. Finding it a disagreeable matter to remain in the same room with the phlegmatic figure still seated in the bergère by the fire, Roger crossed to one of the French windows, and opening the casement stepped outside on the narrow balcony.
"You see, ma blanche, I have left all Madame's clothes at Philadelphia, and brought only those that belong to Virginie, no tromperie, no feathers, no gauzes, no diamonds, only white dresses, and my straw hat en bergere, I brought one string of pearls that was my mother's; but pearls, you know, belong to the sea-nymphs.
She checked herself suddenly, for Fleda, with the slow, noiseless step that weakness imposed, had come in again, and stood by the centre-table. "We are discussing a knotty question, Miss Ringgan," said Mr. Carleton, with a smile, as he brought a bergère for her; "I should like to have your voice on it." There was no seconding of his motion. He waited till she had seated herself, and then went on.
"Sit down, I want to suggest something to you." She patted the old lady's shoulder for thanks and sat down in the blue damask bergère beside the fire, looking up at him expectantly. "Yes, certainly; what is it?" "Thérèse, you mustn't misunderstand what I am going to say. It's awfully difficult. The fact is, I've only just realised you are keeping Sartorius here on my account.
It was not long before I found such apartments as I required, Piloted by Brunet through some broad thoroughfares and along part of the Boulevards, I came upon a cluster of narrow streets branching off through a massive stone gateway from the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre. This little nook was called the Cité Bergère. The houses were white and lofty. Some had courtyards, and all were decorated with pretty iron balconies and delicately-tinted Venetian shutters. Most of them bore the announcement "Apartements
Through some other indirections we at last found the Rue Bergere, down which I went with J in quest of Hottinguer et Co., the bankers, while the rest of us went along the Boulevards, towards the Church of the Madeleine. . . . . This business accomplished, J and I threaded our way back, and overtook the rest of the party, still a good distance from the Madeleine.
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