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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Madjor Shaughnessy!" cried M. D'Hemecourt, losing all self-control. "H-I am nod a cud-troad, Madjor Shaughnessy, h-an I 'ave a r-r-righd to wadge you." The Major rose from his chair. "What d'ye mean?" he asked vacantly, and then: "Look-ut here, Munsher D'Himecourt, one of uz is crazy. I say one" "No, sar-r-r!" cried the other, rising and clenching his trembling fist. "H-I am not crezzy.
"Ah, Monsieur, all the young gentlemen they grow crezzy, that is now four, five month, Monsieur." "Who is she, then, Jules, and what? Is she indeed very beautiful?" "It is establish', Monsieur. No one has ever seen her face. As to her grace and youth, it is not to doubt. She dance always in the domino, and no man may say in truth he has pass' word with Louise Loisson.
She lifted her eyes with the evident determination to meet his own squarely, but it was too much; they fell as before; yet she went on speaking: "An' w'en someboddie git'n' ti'ed livin' wid 'imsev an' big'n' to fill ole, an' wan' someboddie to teg de care of 'im an' wan' me to gid marri'd wid 'im I thing 'e's in love to me." Her fingers kept up a little shuffling with the fan. "I thing I'm crezzy.
A vehicle rumbled by in the street below, and passed away. At the bottom of the room, where a gilded Mars was driving into battle, a soft note told the half-hour. The lady spoke again. "Id mague" she sighed once more "so strange, sometime' I thing I'm git'n' crezzy."
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