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Updated: May 21, 2025
Fernande and Madame remained with the four men, and Monsieur Philippe exclaimed: "I will pay for some champagne; get three bottles, Madame Tellier." And Fernande gave him a hug, and whispered to him: "Play us a waltz, will you?" So he rose and sat down at the old piano in the corner, and managed to get a hoarse waltz out of the entrails of the instrument.
Madame was dressed in blue silk from head to foot, and had on over her dress a dazzling red shawl of imitation French cashmere. Fernande was panting in a Scottish plaid dress, whose bodice, which her companions had laced as tight as they could, had forced up her falling bosom into a double dome, that was continually heaving up and down, and which seemed liquid beneath the material.
His wife, who was overwhelmed by Raphaele's gold-striped dress, walked between her and Fernande, and roly-poly Rosa was trotting behind with Louise and Flora, the Seesaw, who was limping along, quite tired out.
Her serious conversation was a change from the ceaseless chatter of the three women; it was a rest from the obscene jokes of those stout individuals who every evening indulged in the common-place debauchery of drinking a glass of liquor in company with prostitutes. The names of the girls on the first floor were Fernande, Raphaele, and Rosa, the Jade.
In those days, if either were an obstacle, he flinched no more before a great moral law than at a big fence. "Well," Guy went on, "it is the simple history of Fernande, an ange déchue of the Quartier Brèda.
In this book there will be discussion of pairs of people and their relation, short sketches of innumerable ones, Ollie, Paul; Paul, Fernande; Larr and me, Jane and me, Hattie and Ollie, Margaret and Phillip, Claudel and Mrs.
"Bored with all the tricks I was playing? Fernande! pity me, there was such a little time, and so much to do!" "So little time only fourteen kilos!" The countess compressed her lips; they were smiling no longer. "Ah, but you see, I had so much to combat. You had a whole season, last summer, in which to play your game, your solemn game."
COLD-BLOODED CRITIC. "I have never seen a finer piece of acting than that of Miss MORANT in the last scene. But then her revenge becomes absurd when you reflect that FERNANDE is just what ANDRE fancies her, an innocent girl. That is a fair specimen of the way in which American writers adapt French plays. They sacrifice probability to prudery."
His wife, who was overwhelmed by Raphaele's gold-striped dress, walked between her and Fernande, and roly-poly Rosa was trotting behind with Louise and Flora, the Seesaw, who was limping along, quite tired out.
Just for once, Rivet would sleep in the workshop on the shavings; his wife was going to share her bed with her sister-in-law, and Fernande and Raphaele were to sleep together in the next room.
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