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Updated: May 22, 2025
Her voice lowered slightly "You haven't changed much, Elwyn." I felt her wonderful eyes searching mine and my face more closely. "Yes, you have," she amended, and there was a soft, exultant note in her latest tones; "I see it now. You haven't forgotten. You haven't forgotten for a year or a day or an hour. I told you you never could." I poked my straw anxiously in the creme de menthe.
I told you at luncheon." "When we were eating a sweetbread aux champignons. I remember perfectly. We do not get sweetbreads like that in Paris." And John Turner shook his head sadly. "Well, will you let me have the money to-morrow morning in notes?" "I remember I advised you not to sell just now; after we had finished the sweetbread and had gone on to a creme renversee very good one, too.
The inhabitants of Barbary do not like a wild life, they are extremely fond of what civilization can give them, such as creme de menthe, rifles, good waterworks, maps, and railways: only they would like to have these things without the bother of strict laws and of the police, and so forth. Travel in Barbary with seeing eyes and you find out all this new truth.
But what say we taste a bit of this crême de céléri which Monsieur Durtal praises so highly?" It was a thick liqueur, sirupy like anisette, but even sweeter and more feminine, only, when one had swallowed this inert semi-liquid, there lingered in the roots of the papillæ a faint taste of celery.
She is sought after, and invitations accumulate on her table. Her callers are the crême of the city. Brokers who are up early, drop in to her elegant little teas and bring her bouquets when roses are at their highest. Professional men find a wonderful charm in her conversation. There are generally one or two bright women beside, and the room takes on the appearance of a select party.
"Everybody else was there, of course. Did your brother bring his wife? A reception is not a party." "He had better taste than that, my dear. He would not even bring Marcia, though she was dying to come. It was for the very crême, you know. I'm not frantically in love with such things, only the name of having gone. Do you know that Floyd is rather of the leonine order?
There were several excellent examples of good soldiers in "The Forty," among whom stood first Mohammed-el-Feel, sergeant of the body-guard. The latter comprised ten men, selected from "The Forty" as creme de la creme; these men were exempted from all labour, and they formed the guard of two sentries by night, and one by day.
Lonkins wants is a real DEEP cherry pie," announced a lady in a tone of dramatic and honest conviction. "Why, yes, that is so," corroborated a gentleman who was apparently the Mr. Lonkins in question; "a real DEEP cherry pie." "We had the same trouble way back in Paris," proclaimed another lady; "little Jerome and the girls don't want to eat any more creme renversee.
Prince Florestan had arrived in town, and was now settled in his mansion in Carlton Terrace. It was the fashion among the creme de la creme to keep aloof from him. The Tories did not love revolutionary dynasties, and the Whigs being in office could not sanction a pretender, and one who, they significantly intimated with a charitable shrug of the shoulders, was not a very scrupulous one.
It seems rather ungrateful to Providence to cry them down; and ingratitude was never a favourite vice with me. One would have said that the chauffeur knew by instinct what I liked best to eat, and he must have had a very persuasive way with the waiter. There was crême d'orge, in a big cup; there were sweetbreads, and there was lemon meringue.
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