Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 24, 2025
Several acquaintances passed to and fro whom so far as possible he avoided. Madame Christophor came at last. She was the centre of the little party who were on their way into the lounge. When she neared Julien, however, she paused and made her adieux. He rose and waited for her expectantly. "We are to talk here?" he asked. She nodded. "In that corner." She pointed to a more retired spot.
He sipped his coffee for a moment. Then he turned slowly round. "Madame Christophor," he said, "once you told me that you disliked and distrusted all men. Why, then, should I trust you?" She winced a little, but her tone when she answered him was free of offense. "Why should you, indeed?" she replied.
She had picked him up in the Bois, where he had gone for a solitary walk. In her luxurious automobile they passed smoothly beyond the confines of the Park and out into the country. After her brief summons and the few words of invitation, they relapsed into a somewhat curious silence. "My friend," Madame Christophor remarked at length, glancing thoughtfully towards him, "I find a change in you.
Julien unrolled the scrap of paper with reluctant fingers. There were only a few words written there in hasty pencil: Monsieur, there is a friend of mine whom you must see. Call at number 17, Avenue de St. Paul and ask for Madame Christophor. Do not attempt to speak to me. This is for your good. Julien's fingers were upon the note to destroy it, but again Kendricks stopped him.
You are pale and tired and silent. It is your duty to amuse me, but you make no effort to do so. Yet you have lost that look of complete dejection. You have, indeed, the appearance of a man who has accomplished something, who has found a new purpose in life." Julien to some extent recovered himself. "Dear Madame Christophor," he exclaimed, "it is true! My manners are shocking.
Monsieur Bourgan brought up the rear. Madame Christophor shrugged her shoulders. "Really," she declared, with a sigh, "life is becoming altogether too complicated. Never mind, I have got rid of Prince Falkenberg for you, Sir Julien. Between ourselves, I think that he will receive a hint to leave Paris, and before very long. Listen there goes his car."
Supposing, however, I change my mind and visit St. Petersburg instead?" She raised her hands an expressive gesture. "There is no Madame Christophor in St. Petersburg. I think that you will be very ill-advised if you go there. Many of the elements which go to the making of life wait for you in Paris. In St. Petersburg you would be a stranger. The life is not there." She rose to her feet briskly.
"I give you even his heritage," Falkenberg promised. "Make of him a Frenchman or an American, if you will. He is your own son. Take him. I give my firstborn for my country. You will not refuse what I offer?" Madame Christophor made no answer. Falkenberg, however, saw the longing in her face. It was enough! He suddenly changed his tactics.
Be satisfied. Devote your energies to them and count me a black sheep. You can make me a little allowance, if you like a hundred a year or so but whether I have it or not, I am either going to make bows in Mademoiselle Rignaut's workshop, or I am going to be secretary to a very delightful lady a Mrs. Christophor, or something of the sort."
And I tell you I've a sort of faith in that little French girl. She gives one to think, as she herself remarked. Look up Madame Christophor. Don't be surprised to see me at any moment. I generally turn up in Paris every few weeks or so. Good luck to you!" Julien leaned out of the window and waved his hand to Kendricks as the train moved slowly around the curve.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking