Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 10, 2025
Her toilette lacked the elaborateness of Cecile's, but she carried it with an air which not all the modistes of France could have succeeded in imparting to the Citoyenne Deshaix. So dead was Robespierre's niece to every sense of fitness that, having drawn aside to let the woman pass, she stood gazing after her until she disappeared round the angle of the landing.
He moved to the window, and stood drumming absently on the panes. He was inured to these invasions on the part of Cecile Deshaix and to the bold, unwomanly advances that repelled him. To-day his patience with her was even shorter than its wont, haply because when his official had announced a woman he had for a moment permitted himself to think that it might be Suzanne.
Now for all that he believed himself to have become above emotions where Mademoiselle de Bellecour was concerned, he felt his pulses quicken at the very thought that this might be she at last. "What manner of woman, Brutus?" he asked. "A pretty woman, Citizen," answered Brutus, with a grin. "It is the Citoyenne Deshaix." La Boulaye made an impatient gesture.
An instant he remained in that bowed attitude with head half-raised. Then suddenly straightening himself he swung round and came face to face with Cecile Deshaix. Confronting each other and very close they now stood and each was breathing with more than normal quickness.
"I applaud the wisdom of your resolve Cit Cecile. The world, as I have said, is censorious." She looked at him a second, then she laughed, but it was laughter of the lips only; the eyes looked steely as daggers and as capable of mischief. "Adieu, Citizen La Boulaye," she murmured mockingly. "Au revoir, Citoyenne Deshaix," he replied urbanely.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking