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Madame Gerson, Blanche, as Sabine called her, had a similar ambition, but simply from a desire to be in fashion. She wished to bring herself into notice. Everything attracted her, tempted her. She belonged, body and soul, to that machine with its manifold gearing, brilliant, noisy, active, puffing like a locomotive, that is called chic.

baked beans 40 beets 64 black-eyed peas 33 carrots 92 chic peas 36 parsnips 97 potato chips 51 baked potato 98 sweet potato 48 yams 51 peas 51 Baked Goods pastry 59 sponge cake 46 white bread 69 w/w bread 72 whole rye bread 42 Sugars fructose 20 glucose 100 honey 87 maltose 110 sucrose 59 Nuts peanuts 13 Meats sausage 28 fish sticks 38 Dairy Products yogurt 36 whole milk 34 skim milk 32

The latter, on arrival, tried to coax the sick man to go in: "You must go to bed now, Lieutenant...." "Must go, of course," repeated the lieutenant emphatically, heaving a profound sigh. "We must all go. The man who doesn't go is a coward, and they have no use for a coward. That's how it is. Don't you understand? Heroes are in fashion now. The chic Madame Dill wanted a hero to match her new hat.

And how they used to lunch on the drag which his mother WOULD make his father have, because it was so "chic" all drags and carriages in those days, not these lumbering great Stands! And how consistently Montague Dartie had drunk too much. He supposed that people drank too much still, but there was not the scope for it there used to be.

"It was cut from a paper pattern, given away with a popular magazine." "Well, it fits awfully well. And there's a style about it; it's quite chic. Oh, you really must give a hint or two to that idiot of a Marie. What society is there here? I thought, as we drove from the station, that the place looked awfully dull and quiet.

These sketches of towns in Normandy, and of pastoral scenes, have a curious family likeness, and a mannerism which the French may call 'chic, but which we are inclined to attribute to want of power and patient study.

Yvonne d'Etaples was the incarnation of chic of fashionable elegance in Jacqueline's eyes. Her heart beat with pleasure when she thought how Belle and Dolly would envy her when she told them: "I have a myrtle-green riding-habit, just like Yvonne's." She danced rather than walked as they went together to Blackfern's. A habit was much nicer than a long gown.

Her health was drunk, and she had to get on a chair to make a little speech of thanks and invitation to the Cake Shop as a new Chicago Institution. Many of the women who came knew their Paris better than New York, and "adored" "this chic little place." It recalled to them all most delightful moments. And even in Paris they had never eaten anything so delicious as M. Paul's cakes.

She obviously had no sense, not even the beginnings of sense. She was wearing an impudently expensive frock which must have cost quite five times as much as Christine's own, though the latter in the opinion of the wearer was by far the more authentically chic. And she talked proudly at large about her losses on the turf and of the swindles practised upon her.

He said it as he would say a piece of sculpture was remarkable, because he knew it was so. And it gratified her to hear it from him. Other people had such a passion to make everything of one degree, of one pattern. In England it was chic to be perfectly ordinary. And it was a relief to her to be acknowledged extraordinary. Then she need not fret about the common standards.