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Updated: May 17, 2025
"I hope you'll excuse me, sir, but that last drop of Veuve Cliquot was the whip-cord that started the top going, and, on my word" raising his hands to his head "I feel like holding it on to keep it from spinning off." "Spinning or not, you shall try this vintage" the young man's eyes gleamed with such fire as shone in the glass "and drink to Constance Carew!"
In the hands of a friendly receiver this car became a boon to the capitol contingent; its observation platform served as a shifting rostrum from which a deep-chested executive or a mellifluous Hawk often addressed admiring crowds at way stations, and its dining saloon was the moving scene of many little relaxative feasts, at which Veuve Cliquot flowed freely, priceless cigars were burned, and the members of the organization unbent, each after his kind.
On one occasion having swallowed a sword, and then bent his body in different directions, as an adventurous sensation, Cliquot found that the weapon also had bent to a sharp angle; and quick as thought, realizing his own position as well as that of the sword, he whipped it out, tearing his throat in a dreadful manner.
Petersburg. Our hospitable host then ordered champagne, and over tall, slender glasses of cool beaded Cliquot we meditated upon the vicissitudes of Siberian life. Yesterday we sat on the ground in a Korak tent and ate reindeer meat out of a wooden trough with our fingers, and today we dined with the Russian governor, in a luxurious house, upon venison cutlets, plum pudding, and champagne.
He pitied me, and after many consultations with Father and Mother Cliquot, he assumed the position of guardian to me, and placed me at one of the best schools in Paris. He lingered in the city and came to see me very often; but always saw me in the presence of Madame, the directress.
It was Cliquot, and as Meeus felt the glow of the wine in his veins, a flush came into his hollow cheeks and a brightness into his dull eyes; forgotten things stirred again in his memory, with the shadows of people he had known the glitter of lamplit streets in Brussels, the glare of the Café de Couronne all the past, such as it was, lay in the wine. Meeus was one of the "unfortunate men."
Those traveling westward were generally loaded with tea in chests, covered with cowhide. The amount of traffic over the principal road through Siberia is very large. When we halted for dinner I brought a bottle of champagne from, my sleigh. It was the best of the 'Cliquot' brand and frozen as solid as a block of ice.
In one of his acts Cliquot swallows a real bayonet sword, weighted with a cross-bar, and two 18-lib. dumb bells. In order to vary this performance, the sword-swallower allows only a part of the weapon to pass into his body, the remainder being "kicked" down by the recoil of a rifle, which is fixed to a spike in the centre of the bar, and fired by the performer's sister.
"Stay and have a little dinner with us," he added cordially, as Nicholson prepared to take his leave. "I'd like to make up to you with a little of my best Cliquot." Nicholson shook his head. The impression that he stood before a veiled and unpleasant comedy increased his desire to get away. "Thanks, I'm afraid I can't," he said. "I have work to do. Good night." "Good night.
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