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Tant de fois je le lui ai demande, "Qu'est ce donc que ce Bismarck, Winifred?" Mais elle n'a pas voulu me le dire. Son Bismarck, c'etait un mystere. 'Oui, c'est un mystere, vraiment un mystere! Miss Brangwen, say that Bismarck is a mystery, cried Winifred. 'Bismarck, is a mystery, Bismarck, c'est un mystere, der Bismarck, er ist ein Wunder, said Gudrun, in mocking incantation.
The end came in a positive Catherine-wheel exhibition of posturing, and a deathly silence on the part of the audience; the men not daring to make any comment, the women not daring to look at each other, until the widow, suddenly seizing upon the situation, clapped her little hands roguishly, and avowed in a babyish voice that "C'était bien gentil et original, n'est ce pas," which she didn't think at all really.
Enfin, no artistic feeling whatever, not a sign of anything higher, of anything fundamental, no embryo of a future ideal... c'etait comma un petit idiot, but I'm afraid I am incoherent; excuse me... you came upon me..." "You say seriously that he crossed his pillow?" the engineer asked suddenly with marked curiosity. "Yes, he used to..." "All right. I just asked. Go on."
M. Trelat will pardon me if I correct, even before I quote him; but what the Frenchman supposed to flow from some particular bitterness against France, was only Fleeming's usual address. Had M. Trelat been Italian, Italy would have fared as ill; and yet Italy was Fleeming's favourite country. Vous savez comment j'ai connu Fleeming Jenkin! C'etait en Mai 1878.
"C'etait une dame très convenable," said one purveyor, and the others agreed. "Elle me paya écus sonnants," said another, "et toujours sans marchander." There was even present a more distinguished acquaintance of the past: a long-retired Commissaire de Police of the Quartier in which Mrs. Warren's hotel was situated.
In 1697, he succeeded to the command of a company of infantry, but was suffering wretchedly from the gout at Fort Frontenac. In 1710, Vaudreuil, in a despatch to the minister, Ponchartrain, announced his death as occurring in the previous winter, and added the brief comment, "c'etait un tres-honnete homme." Other contemporaries speak to the same effect. "Mr.
Lalemant was a Parisian, and his family belonged to the class of gens de robe, or hereditary practitioners of the law. He was thirty-nine years of age. His physical weakness is spoken of by several of those who knew him. Marie de l'Incarnation says, "C'etait l'homme le plus faible et le plus delicat qu'on eut pu voir."
It was a devil of a storm." "Mon Dieu! c'était épouvantable!" groaned the count. Penelope came down from the porch to meet them. Without a word she took her brother's arm. He stared at her with growing resentment. "Dem it all, Pen," he chattered, "you're not at all wet, are you? Look at me! All on your account, too." "Dear old Cecil! All on Evelyn's account, you mean," she said softly, wistfully.
One Sieur d'Aubigny, a kind of household steward whom she had promoted to be her equerry, was lodged in the Retiro palace near the apartments of her women, where he was seen one day brushing his teeth very unconcernedly at the window. C'était un beau et grand drôle très-bien fait et très-découplé de corps et d'esprit, and not a bête brute, as Louville calls him.
Beryl in the first few weeks of her stay evinced small interest in the departure of Vivien Warren and her reasons for going abroad. She had a scheme of her own in which her architect would take a prominent part, for providing women authoresses, actresses, or the wives of the newly enriched with week-end cottages; the desire for which was born with the Twentieth century and fostered by the invention of motors and bicycles. Cases before the firm for opinions on intricate legal problems Beryl was advised to place before the consideration of one of Honoria's friends, a law student, Mr. D.V. Williams, who would shortly be back from his holiday and who had agreed to look in at the office from time to time and go through such papers as were set aside for him to read. Beryl had remarked without any intention behind it on seeing some of his notes initialled V.W. that it was rum he should have the same initials as that Vivie girl whom she remembered at Newnham ... who was "so silent and standoffish and easily shocked." But she noticed later that when Mr. Williams got to work his initials were really three and not two D.V.W. One thing with the other: her departure from the office at the regular closing hour five so that she might see her babies before they were put to bed; Williams's habit of coming to work after six; kept them from meeting till the October of 1901. When they did meet after Honoria's return from Switzerland, Beryl scanned the law student critically; decided he was rather nice-looking but very pre-occupied; perhaps engaged to some girl whose parents objected; rather mysterious, quand même; she had heard some one say this Mr. David Williams was a cousin or something of Vivie Warren ... what if he were in love with Vivie and she had gone away because she had some fad or other about not wanting to marry? Well! All this could be looked into some other time, if it were worth bothering about at all. Or could Williams be spoony on Honoria? After her money? He was much younger evidently but young men adored ripe women, and young girls idolized elderly soldiers. C'était
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