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And we sat together, the good old general and I, and in front of us were Alice's old friend Germaine, chic and pretty in her sables, and Blondel, who had left his unfinished editorial and driven hard to be present, and beside him in the worn pew sat the Marquis and Marquise de Clamard, and the rest of the worn pews were filled with fisherfolk and Marianne sat on my left, and old Père Varnet with Suzette beyond him and every one's eyes were upon Alice and Tanrade, for they were good to look upon.
Madame Alice de Bréville who spoils you, and the Marquis de Clamard who does not like pussy-cats, but is too well-bred to tell you so, and the marquise who flatters you, and Blondel! Don't struggle you cannot get away, I've got you tight. You are not going to have your way all the time. Look at me! Claws in and your ears up! There!
Did you not send me a dozen bottles this morning, Monsieur Tanrade? Come, confess!" He turned and shrugged his shoulders. "Impossible! I cannot remember. I am so absent-minded, madame," and he bent and kissed her hand. "Where's Blondel?" cried Clamard, as he extracted a thin cigarette-case from his waistcoat. "He'll be here presently," I explained.
And as Miquette regained her liberty upon her four paws, the Marquis and Marquise de Clamard announced their arrival by tapping on the window, so that for the moment the cozy room was deserted save by Miquette, who profited during the interval by stealing a whole sardine from the hors-d'oeuvres.
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