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Updated: June 24, 2025
He was at Biarritz at the time, and was kept regularly informed of everything connected with this affair of the apparitions, with which the entire Parisian press was also occupying itself, for the persecutions would not have been complete if the pens of Voltairean newspaper-men had not meddled in them.
I said this to myself when I had momentary qualms of conscience. Now, rather late in the day, it strikes me that the conventional point of view should have been re-adjusted to the special case. I should have allowed for his personal equation. My cousin Wilford came to Biarritz about this time, stopping for a week, on his way home from a tour in Spain.
"For egotism you are not the man to blame her," smiled his friend. "I know that," shrugged Stefan. "I've always believed in egotism, but I confess Felicity is a little extreme." "Where is she?" "Oh, she's gone to Biarritz for a week with a party of Americans. I wouldn't go. I loathe mobs of dressed-up spendthrifts.
He was at Biarritz at the time, and was kept regularly informed of everything connected with this affair of the apparitions, with which the entire Parisian press was also occupying itself, for the persecutions would not have been complete if the pens of Voltairean newspaper-men had not meddled in them.
She was dressed in a simple costume of some neutral tint which I cannot remember, and she wore those long loose gauntlets commonly known as Biarritz gloves.
"Oh, yes, bambino," she replied. "Yes, I believe in you. Only, why must you have such silly ambitions?" We were getting near the bath establishment, and when we came in front of it we said good-bye. Laura was starting the next day to Biarritz, and Caesar for Madrid. We pressed one another's hands affectionately. "Good-bye!" "Good-bye, doctor!" "Good luck!"
Besides, as a last resource, she spoke to him of her husband, the count, who, in his eternal blindness, joined in his wife's requests asking her to invite the artist to spend a while at their house in Biarritz. The poor painter must be very sad in his bereavement and the kindly nobleman insisted on consoling him in his loneliness.
"Well, Hargreave!" exclaimed Rayne. "I hope you had a nice time at Biarritz, eh? Well, I want you to go on a further little holiday down to Eastbourne. Drive the Rolls down to the Grand Hotel there and stay as a gentleman of leisure." "I'm always that nowadays," I laughed.
A mysterious people, who dwell alone, and are not counted among the nations; speaking an unique language, and keeping up unique customs, for which the curious must consult M. Michel's interesting book. There may be a cross of English blood among them, too, about Biarritz and Bayonne; English features there are, plainly to be seen.
Some of the types on the water-side are of the sort that arrest a sketcher, figures of stalwart, brown-faced Basques, such as I had seen of old in great numbers at Biarritz, with their loose circular caps, their white sandals, their air of walking for a wager. Never was a tougher, a harder race.
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