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Updated: May 26, 2025
It was he who had settled the young artist in the Avenue de Villiers, compelling him to have a little mansion of his own, furnishing it as he would have furnished a place for a hussy, running him into debt with supplies of carpets and nick-nacks, so that he might afterwards hold him at his mercy; and now he began to accuse him of lacking orderliness and seriousness, of compromising himself like a feather-brain.
And, I repeat, I have come to you to demand his release. Damn it! Such a demand is neither a threat nor a cases belli." The minister calmed the old hussar with a gesture. "No," he replied, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth; "but it is embarrassing, embarrassing! Confound Menko! He always was a feather-brain! The idea of his leaving diplomacy to seek adventures!
And, I repeat, I have come to you to demand his release. Damn it! Such a demand is neither a threat nor a cases belli." The minister calmed the old hussar with a gesture. "No," he replied, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth; "but it is embarrassing, embarrassing! Confound Menko! He always was a feather-brain! The idea of his leaving diplomacy to seek adventures!
"Well, if he deceives me, so much the worse for him, the sixty thousand florins will be ours in any case." "Ah, what a prudent girl it is! She is not a feather-brain like her sisters. She will not make a fool of her old mother. She is, indeed, my own true girl!" thought Mrs. Meyer to herself, and she rubbed her hands for joy. Now the iron is hot, now is the time to strike!
Oh! if I could live as she does." Yet this was only just a passing thought, for in reality he would on no account have wished to exchange his own spiritual tortures for the feather-brain existence of a Lialia. "Yourii! Yourii!" she exclaimed in a shrill voice though she was not more than three paces distant from him. Laughing roguishly, she handed him a little rose-coloured missive.
She spoke with a hard tone, greatly excited, with lip curled by a savage disdain. The doctor forced a laugh and assumed a light, condescending tone, repeating: "Ah, feather-brain, feather-brain!" And his glance, anxious and beseeching, sought the Nabob, as though to demand his pardon for all these paradoxical impertinences.
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