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Updated: May 9, 2025
The old lady moved her fingers gently on the round table by the side of her chair,.. oh, infinitely pretty it was.... Then Carroll wandered off into the Qué Cantes awfully pretty 'It is not for myself I sing, but for my friend who is near me' and I can't tell you how like four old friends we were, those two so oddly met ladies and Carroll and myself.... And so to Oft in the Stilly Night again....
In a word, we'd had two months of it, eating almonds and apricots from the trees, watching the women at the communal washing-fountains under the dark plane-trees, singing Magali and the Qué Cantes, and Carroll yarning away all the time about Caesar and Vercingetorix and Dante, and trying to learn Provençal so that he could read the stuff in the Journal des Félibriges that he'd never have looked at if it had been in English....
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