Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !

Updated: June 27, 2025


You informed me one day that you needed a husband, some one to watch over you while you were at work, to relieve poor, worn-out Crenmitz from sentry duty. Those were your own words, which tore my heart then because I was not free. Now everything is changed. Will you marry me, Felicia?" "What about your wife?" cried the girl, while Paul asked himself the same question. "My wife is dead." "Dead?

What torture for Felicia! It was her sin, her remorse passing through the streets of Paris in all that solemn pomp, that funereal magnificence, that public mourning reflected even in the clouds; and the proud girl rebelled against the affront that circumstances put upon her, fled from it to the depths of the carriage, where she remained with closed eyes, overwhelmed, while old Crenmitz, believing that it was her grief which so affected her nerves, strove to comfort her, wept herself over their separation, and withdrawing into the other corner, left the cab-window in full possession of the great Algerian slougui, his delicate nostrils sniffing the air and his forepaws resting despotically on the sill with heraldic rigidity.

"What! is that La Crenmitz, that little old woman in a fur cape? I supposed she was dead twenty years ago." Oh! no; on the contrary, she is very much alive.

And the good Crenmitz in despair huddled herself into a corner of the cab so that she would not be seen weeping. Felicia was leaving Paris. She was trying to escape the horrible sadness, the sinister disgust into which Mora's death had thrown her. What a terrible blow for the proud girl!

Constance Crenmitz was one of those happy mortals.

Whether it be the excellent Crenmitz or another, you always see, at the opening of the Salon, that shadow prowling furtively about where people are conversing, with ears on the alert and an anxious expression; sometimes it is an old father who thanks you with a glance for a kindly word said in passing, or assumes a despairing expression at the epigram which you hurl at a work of art and which strikes a heart behind you.

Word Of The Day

serfojee's

Others Looking