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"It would be the poorer compliment to us," she rejoined. They looked at one another; she dropped her eyelids, he looked away. She had the grand manner by nature. She was the woman of the girl once known. "A soldier, is he?" "Emile's profession and mine are much alike, or will be." "A secretary?" Her deadness of accent was not designed to carry her opinion of the post of secretary.
In consequence of their want of religious principles, they are notoriously proud, haughty, and vain silly even of their family distinction. I imagine that Mrs. Le Grande could scarcely receive a deeper wound to her family pride, than from Emile's marrying a Jewess, no matter how lovely or high-born.
Emile's calculation of the amount of fish caught, corrected by Karlek by the simple process of multiplying the sum by two, and with a bit more added by myself to be sure not to underestimate it, formed all the legal data I needed. The lean, scrawny figure of Ike, twisting and squirming with evident uneasiness, awaited my arrival at the appointed time.
Children form a bond between their parents, a bond no less tender and a bond which is sometimes stronger than love itself. When you cease to be Emile's mistress you will be his friend and wife; you will be the mother of his children. Then instead of your first reticence let there be the fullest intimacy between you; no more separate beds, no more refusals, no more caprices.
"It would be the poorer compliment to us," she rejoined. They looked at one another; she dropped her eyelids, he looked away. She had the grand manner by nature. She was the woman of the girl once known. "A soldier, is he?" "Emile's profession and mine are much alike, or will be." "A secretary?" Her deadness of accent was not designed to carry her opinion of the post of secretary.
He had made of her a Madonna, a goddess, she who was fair game for all other men in Barcelona. Emile's voice broke in upon her meditations. "You shouldn't worry, Fatalité. It's not becoming. Have a cigarette to make yourself a little distraction." She shook her head. "No, thank you, Emile. I never wanted to smoke, and any way it would not give me a distraction to-night."
He says nothing; questions pass unheeded; he sees only Sophy, he hears only Sophy; if she says a word, he opens his mouth; if her eyes are cast down, so are his; if he sees her sigh, he sighs too; it is Sophy's heart which seems to speak in his. What a change have these few moments wrought in her heart! It is no longer her turn to tremble, it is Emile's. Farewell liberty, simplicity, frankness.
LEAH MORDECAI sat alone in the southern balcony of her father's house one night in this same memorable August, the events of which were so fully recorded in Emile's diary-sat alone enjoying the warm silver moonlight that flooded all the world about her-sat alone, thinking, dreaming, fearing, vaguely hoping.
He was in exuberant spirits, and whistled as he walked keeping step to the dancing gaiety of 'La petite Tonquinoise. His headgear, which vied in picturesque disorder with Emile's historical sombrero, was pushed to the back of his head, exposing his thick, unruly hair, and over one ear, Spanish fashion, he had stuck a carnation.
She required all her lover's natural feelings esteem of what is really good, frugality, simplicity, generous unselfishness, a scorn of pomp and riches. These virtues were Emile's before love claimed them of him. Is he really changed? He has all the more reason to be himself; that is the only difference.
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