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Updated: June 16, 2025
Just ahead, around the bend in the path, lay the grass-grown carrefour where he had first seen Lorraine. He thought of her as he remembered her then, flushed, indignant, blocking the path while the map-making spy sneered in her face and crowded past her, still sneering. He thought, too, of her scarlet skirt, and the little velvet bodice and the silver chains.
"Their place of meeting," says Roger North, "was in a sort of Carrefour at Chancery Lance, in a centre of business and company most proper for such anglers of fools.
André des Arts, the barricade of the Rue du Temple, the barricade of the Carrefour Phélippeaux defended by twenty young men who have all been killed; they are reconstructing it; the barricade of the Rue de Bretagne, which at this moment Courtigis is bombarding. There is the barricade of the Invalides, the barricade of the Barrière des Martyres, the barricade of the Chapelle St. Denis.
She turned and gazed dreamily at the forest. "So there is nothing for me to do," she said, "except to remain here and sew for the hospitals." ... She looked out thoughtfully across the fern-grown carrefour: "Therefore I sew all day by the latticed window there all day long, day after day and when one is young and when there is nobody nothing to look at except the curlew flying nothing to hear except the vanneaux, and the clocks striking the hour "
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