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Updated: June 3, 2025
This brought our famous reel, which proved to be a dead failure, to an abrupt close; and the old generals, for whose sake we danced it, never got a chance to show what they could do; and we were thankful when Waldteufel returned to the piano and played a waltz, to which we could dance until it was time for the Emperor's tea, and then, Bonsoir! November 27th.
There were only two carriages before the door, Mr. Washburn's and Auber's. Mr. Washburn took charge of the now very sleepy Delsarte, who declaimed a sepulchral bonsoir and disappeared, his redingote waving in the air. The maitre took the cher enfant, or rather the cher enfant led the maitre out of the salon. The family retired to rest.
He went down the street and along the road toward the poplars. He met the first detachment of men out of the trenches just beyond the trees, and stepped aside into the mud to let them pass, calling a greeting to them out of the darkness. "Bonsoir!" they replied, and saluted stiffly. There were few among them who did not know his voice, and fewer still who did not suspect his business.
Late though it was, the worthy woman did not seem in any hurry to go away, but at last came the kindly words which even Nancy, slight as was her knowledge of French, understood: "Bonsoir, madame. Dormez bien." Nancy Dampier sat up in bed.
Jean led the way, and Dan, deciding that he had no choice in the matter, followed obediently. The captain brought up the rear. As they went out through the gate, Dan turned for a moment and looked back at the house. He could see the French maid still at the kitchen window. At the same moment Captain Bonhomme glanced back and ceremoniously raised his hat. "Bonsoir, mam'zelle."
A blind chance and blind luck attended it. In broad day, Drew hit the only post in a field five hundred metres wide. Shadowy figures came running toward me. Forgetting, in the joy of so fortunate a landing, my anxiety of a moment before, I shouted out, "Bonsoir, messieurs!"
I saw him out to the gate and there was a brave ring in his "bonsoir, mon vieux," as he swung off in the dusk of the starlit road. He left the village the next day at noon by the toy train, "the little get off-the-track," as we call it. Perhaps he wished it would and end everything, including the rehearsals. Bah! To be rehearsing lovelorn shepherds and shepherdesses in sylvan dells.
When Yvonne had finished her soup, and eaten all her bread, she rose and with another timid "Bonsoir" slipped away to bed. "Leave the brindle heifer tied!" shrilled madame as the child reached the courtyard. "Mais, oui madame, it is done," answered Yvonne, and crept into her box beneath the thatch. At sixteen Yvonne was still guarding the cows for the Bourrons. At seventeen she fell in love.
Her face blossomed with coquetry, her teeth gleamed, and: "Bonsoir diable!" she smiled back at him. Mark Heath had greeted her more soberly. Her eyes followed Chester's big, square frame as he moved with lumbering grace to a corner table. There he sat at the beginning of his career, such as it was, this Bertram Chester a completed piece of work, fresh, unused, from the mills of the gods.
Charlotte Corday gave Marat "Bonsoir, citoyen," ere she drove her knife. This was no cloak to hide her purpose. We are so much creatures of convention that the man who sets out, hell in breast, to avenge himself upon another, cannot forbear to give him greeting before ever he comes upon the matter between them.
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