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Updated: June 3, 2025
It remained for Pere Bontemps to tell me everything. But I am here!" It was three o'clock in the afternoon. Great black clouds, the trail of some neighboring storm, had slowly filled the sky. The yellow heavens, the brass covered uniforms, had changed the valley of Rocreuse, so gay in the sunlight, into a den of cutthroats full of sinister gloom.
When Honore Bontemps entered her cottage, he found her preparing the starch for the collars of the village women, and he said: "Good evening; I hope you are pretty well, Mother Rapet." She turned her head round to look at him and said: "Fairly well, fairly well, and you?" "Oh I as for me, I am as well as I could wish, but my mother is very sick." "Your mother?" "Yes, my mother!"
Rigolette, deceived in the sense of the exclamation of her friend, resumed: "Don't be as sad as me, don't cry." "You have sorrows?" "I? Oh, you know me, a regular Roger Bontemps. I am not changed, but, unfortunately, everybody is not like me; and as others have their troubles, that causes me to have some." "Always kind!"
You want a passport saying that Maitre Antoine Perrot, merchant of Nantes, with his servant, Jacques Bontemps, is on his way to Poitiers, to fetch his daughter, residing near that town, and that that damsel will return with him to Nantes?" "That is it, de Brissac.
The little Bontemps married the President Beaudouin, who was mad.
There was a time when he himself was wont to sing, when he taught his little Zoe the tunes of the Chansons Canadiennes; but even that had dropped away, except at rare intervals, when he would sing Le Petit Roger Bontemps, with Petite Fleur de Bois, and a dozen others; but most he would sing indeed there was never a sing-song in the Manor Cartier but he would burst forth with A la Claire Fontaine and its haunting refrain: "Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, Jamais je ne t'oublierai."
Mother Bontemps confessed, received absolution and communion, and the priest took his departure, leaving the two women alone in the suffocating room, while La Rapet began to look at the dying woman, and to ask herself whether it could last much longer.
Mother Bontemps, who was at last most disturbed in mind, moved about, wrung her hands, and tried to turn her head to look at the bottom of the room, and suddenly la Rapet disappeared at the foot of the bed.
The nurse perceived that this might go on thus for two days, four days, eight days, and her avaricious mind was seized with fear, while she was furious at the sly fellow who had tricked her, and at the woman who would not die. Nevertheless, she began to work, and waited, looking intently at the wrinkled face of Mother Bontemps.
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