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The Director had gone up to Paris, and his mantle had fallen on me. Edouard sat with his feet stretched to the fender, his curly head buried in the great curved back of my invalid chair, the red fire-light reflected on his childish features. I took pleasure in looking at him. He looked at the coals and knit his brows as if in a puzzle.
So he was asking Essie Tisdale to marry him this old Edouard Dubois with the bullet-shaped head and the brutal face that Van Lennop had found so objectionable upon each occasion that he had been his vis-a-vis in the dining-room?
A young man of twenty-eight nearly always looks on a boy of twenty-one with the air of a superior, and this assumption, not being an ill-natured one, is apt to be so easy and so undefined that the younger hardly knows how to resent or to resist it. But Edouard was a little vain as we know; and the Colonel jarred him terribly. His quick haughty eye jarred him.
The Indian's face was white and drawn, no doubt with pain. "Il est mort!" said Marc slowly, crossing himself. Edouard shrugged his shoulders and fetched a small flask of brandy from the professor's sack. Forcing open the jaws, he poured a few drops into the man's mouth. The Indian choked and opened his eyes. Edouard grunted. "La jeunesse pense qu'elle sait tout!" he remarked scornfully.
After the death of Édouard Manet, she devoted herself to building up an appreciation of his work in the public mind. So intelligent were her methods that she doubtless had great influence in making the memory of his art enduring.
It was with the quiet composure of lofty and powerful natures that Josephine opened on him. "Compose yourself, sir; and be so good as to tell us who you are." Edouard must answer.
Neither knew what to say; and their situation was intolerable. At last Rose ventured in a timorous voice to say, "I thank you for your generosity. But I knew that you would not betray me." "Your secret is safe for me," sighed Edouard. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Rose shook her head sadly. Edouard moved to the door. Rose bowed her head with a despairing moan.
Brother Albert raised his eyes again, and added, as if he had not paused, "He was ashamed to hold his head up. He might well be." A strange, excited voice rose from the other end of the room. I looked and saw that it was Edouard who spoke.
As he sat round the fire with Marc and Edouard on that last night, Nichicun spoke his mind of the Nascopees, and Marc translated freely for Bennie's edification. No, the injured Montagnais told them, the Nascopees were not nice; they were dirty. They ate decayed food and they never went to mass. Moreover, they were half-witted.
Roland took the rifle from his brother's shoulder, looked at it knowingly, tried its action, sighted it, tossed it from one hand to the other, and then, giving it back to Edouard, said: "Thank Sir John again. You have a rifle fit for a king's son. Let's go and try it."
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