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Updated: May 19, 2025
You know, I've thought of one improvement on the Cosmopolis already." "Improvement on the Cosmopolis!" cried Mr. Brewster, gashed in his finest feelings. "Yes. There's one point where the old Cosmop slips up badly, and I'm going to see that it's corrected at my little shack. Customers will be entreated to leave their boots outside their doors at night, and they'll find them cleaned in the morning.
But as for being a person who does not know where his ancestors lived, I reply, as did Bonhomet when he reached heaven and the Lord said to him: 'Still a chimney-doctor, Bonhomet? 'And you, Lord?. For you were born in Bourgogne, Monsieur de Montfanon, of an ancient family, related to all the nobility-upon which I congratulate you and you have lived here in Rome for almost twenty-four years, in the Cosmopolis which you revile."
The image returned to him, by way of contrast, of Dorsenne, alert and foppish, the dandy of literature, so gayly a scoffer and a sophist, to whom antique and venerable Rome was only a city of pleasure, a cosmopolis more paradoxical than Florence, Nice, Biarritz, St. Moritz, than such and such other cities of international winter and summer.
He sedulously avoided his love-lorn relative, and it was with a sinking feeling one day that, looking over his shoulder as he sat in the Cosmopolis grill-room preparatory to ordering lunch, he perceived Bill bearing down upon him, obviously resolved upon joining his meal. To his surprise, however, Bill did not instantly embark upon his usual monologue. Indeed, he hardly spoke at all.
Ah, you do not wish to call your Rome a Cosmopolis; then what do you say to the party with which, in twenty minutes, I shall visit the ancient palace of Urban VII? First of all, we have your beautiful enemy, Fanny Hafner, and her father, the Baron, representing a little of Germany, a little of Austria, a little of Italy and a little of Holland. For it seems the Baron's mother was from Rotterdam.
Archie, through long attendance at the Cosmopolis Grill, knew most of the habitues by sight. "That's a man named Gossett. James J. Gossett. He's a motion-picture man. You must have seen his name around." "I don't mean him. Who's the girl?" "I've never seen her before." "It's my wife!" said the Sausage Chappie. "Your wife!" "Yes!" "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure!"
The natural inference is that, unless so odd a name be an assumed one, Doctor Glyphic occupies that room. Passing on to page one hundred, he will find the first entry reads as follows "Balder Helwyse, Cosmopolis. Room 29." In no trifling mood do we call attention to these two names, and, above all, to their relative position in the book.
And onward through the happy years, till he grew old and grey, He never once regretted those brave words he once did say: It's a long way back to mother's knee " The last high note screeched across the room like a shell, and the applause that followed was like a shell's bursting. One could hardly have recognised the refined interior of the Cosmopolis dining-room.
He prided himself on the fact that his hotel was not like other New York hotels, which were run by impersonal companies and shareholders and boards of directors, and consequently lacked the paternal touch which made the Cosmopolis what it was. At other hotels things went wrong, and clients complained.
It was shortly before five o'clock that a young man bounded into a jeweller's shop near the Hotel Cosmopolis a young man who, in spite of the fact that his coat was torn near the collar and that he oozed water from every inch of his drenched clothes, appeared in the highest spirits.. It was only when he spoke that the jeweller recognised in the human sponge the immaculate youth who had looked in that morning to order a bracelet.
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