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Updated: June 25, 2025
Most of it was anonymous. I have kept it all, however, and I quote the following poem, which is rather nice: Passant, te voila sans abri: La flamme a ravage ton gite. Hier plus leger qu'un colibri; Ton esprit aujourd'hui s'agite, S'exhalant en gemissements Sur tout ce que le feu devore. Tu pleures tes beaux diamants?... Non, tes grands yeux les ont encore!
It had been slipped into his hand in the gallery before he saw Mademoiselle to her lodging; it had been in his possession barely an hour. But brief as its contents were, and easily committed to memory, he had perused it thrice already. "At the house next the Golden Maid, Rue Cinq Diamants, an hour before midnight, you may find the door open should you desire to talk farther with C. St.
The lights were burning low and dimly in the picture-gallery when he entered it and saw Maryllia there, pacing restlessly up and down, the folds of her dress with the 'diamants' sparkling around her as she moved, like a million little drops of frost on gossamer, while her small head, lifted proudly on its slim arched throat, seemed to his heated fancy, as though crowned with fresh coronals of gold woven from the summer sun.
"Are you for the house next the Golden Maid, Monsieur?" "Yes." "Rue Cinq Diamants, Quarter of the Boucherie?" "Yes." "No mistake, then," the stout man replied firmly. "You are early, that is all. You have arms, I see. Maillard!" to the person whose voice Tignonville had heard at the head of the stairs "A white sleeve, and a cross for Monsieur's hat, and his name on the register.
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