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Updated: June 3, 2025
From that kitchen squabble, recurrent whenever slummers visited them, Madame Loisel swept in haughty determination, leaving Louis to take it out on the pots. As she approached the table, all the charm of France illuminated her smile. She invariably paid slummers the compliment of addressing them in French. "Bonsoir le souper, plait-il vous?" she asked.
The inn was charming, but I knew from sad experience that no place combines all attractions, and that a spot so picturesque as this would probably lack running water and electric light. "Bonsoir, Monsieur!" A buxom, smiling, bare-armed woman had emerged from the kitchen door. She was plainly the hostess. I set down my bag and removed my hat. "Madame," I responded, "I wish you a good evening.
"Bonsoir, mesdames" the head gravely bowed as the great frame of the body below the head rose from the low seat. The room within seemed to contain nothing else save this giant figure, now that it had risen and was moving toward us. The half-door was courteously opened. "Will not ces dames give themselves the trouble of entering? The streets are not gay at this hour." We went in.
Madame N showed a friend of mine an autograph letter which she claims to have received from one of her clients, "a world's famous man." I was several times invited to inspect it at the clairvoyante's abode, or at my own, if I preferred. Articles on the subject appeared in the French press. To the best of my recollection there was one in Bonsoir.
"I have the honour to wish madame a bonsoir," said he, but the lady was still sulky and vouchsafed no answer. We were soon out in the street. "Do you know," said De Kock slowly, lighting a cigar and looking up at the house, "Do you know, I thought something had happened." "And don't you now." "I am not sure," answered my friend. We were pardonably curious to see the papers next morning.
"Guess! One does not have to guess when one sees as good Burgundy as that. You see I know it." She stretched forth her firm white arms to the blaze. "Where is he, that good-for-nothing fellow?" she asked. "In the garden after some astragon for the salad." She tripped to the half-open door leading to the tangled maze of paths. "Tanrade! Tanrade! Bonsoir, ami!" she called.
Just as she neared the door she looked at me, turned back, and coming up to where I was standing held out her hand and said, "Bonsoir." The Emperor stood a moment irresolutely, then, bowing his head, left the room with the Empress on his arm, the Prince following. We bade the dames d'honneur good night and fled, found the coupe before the entrance, and weren't we glad to get in it and drive away?
That hand at bridge lasted till long past midnight, and I only got away at last on the plea that I was dead tired after my two days' ride. "Tired or not, you play a good hand, mon ami!" Grodwitz declared. We had been partners, and had won all before us. "They shall have their revenge in good time," I said, stifling a yawn. "Bonsoir, messieurs."
Yea, Annette, to have you in one's own power is a sweet thing; nothing can be sweeter except the vengeance which shall feast itself at the same source as my passion." He raised his arm in the direction of White Oaks, where lay the girl's cottage, and cried like a triumphant fiend. "Bonsoir. Adieu, ma belle Annette. Sweet dreams about your lover to-night.
"Be quick! make haste, arm yourselves! we set out on the march in an hour!" said Clopin Trouillefou to his thieves. A wench was humming, "Bonsoir mon pere et ma mere, Les derniers couvrent le feu."* * Good night, father and mother, the last cover up the fire. Two card players were disputing, "Knave!" cried the reddest faced of the two, shaking his fist at the other; "I'll mark you with the club.
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