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Updated: June 13, 2025
I paid no attention to this circumstance, and had, in fact, completely forgotten it; when, quite lately, Gismondo told me that he had just seen his former neighbor again, and, what's more, arm in arm with you, and that you both entered together the Hotel des Folies. As he insisted again upon that famous resemblance, I determined to see for myself.
When the restlessness of Louis XV could no longer find moorings in this brilliancy, there came into being little houses called folies, garden hermitages for the privileged.
The efforts of his valet, and the letters which he had written, having proved useless, M. Costeclar had made up his mind to act in person; and gallantly he had come to put himself on guard in front of the Hotel des Folies. Great was his surprise, when he saw Mlle. Lucienne coming out arm in arm with Maxence; and greater still was his spite.
He put on the gloves with a fireman from the Berthe in a scheduled four-round bout at the Folies Bergères, and was knocked out in the second round.
And the dark hair which closely covered his well-shaped head was drenched with eau de quinine. Gillier was not a gentleman. His father was a small vinegrower and cultivator, who had been rather disgusted by the fugues of his eldest son, but who was now resigned to the latter's étranges folies.
In his heart he bitterly cursed the day when he had yielded to the wiles of Diane Merode, the popular dancer of the Folies Bergere. The cab stopped, and he reeled up a dark flight of steps. He was sitting in a big chair in his studio, with the gas burning overhead, and Jimmie staring at him with an expression of heartfelt sympathy on his honest face.
Next to MOLIERE, but at a great interval, comes REGNARD, whom the French comedians have deserted, for much the same reason: they no longer give any plays from the pen of this author, who possessed the vis comica, except Les Folies Amoureuses, a pretty little comedy in three acts. We no longer hear of his Joueur and his Legataire Universel, which are chefs d'oeuvre.
He longed for the moment when Rufus would have to leave him. He wanted to be alone and silent. Even the thought of Christine and of her inevitable questions hurt him like the touch of a rough, unfeeling hand. "I liked that kid best that girl on the funny pony. She must have been at the Folies Bergeres, don't you think? Folies Bergeres sounds French, and she was making sort of French noises.
It would be charming. Where would you like to go?" Duroy did not know what to reply; finally he said: "I have never been to the Folies Bergeres. I should like to go there." His companion exclaimed: "The Folies Bergeres! Very well!" They turned and walked toward the Faubourg Montmartre. The brilliantly illuminated building loomed up before them. Forestier entered, Duroy stopped him.
It was on the opposite side of the landing that what Mme. Fortin pompously called "Maxence's apartment" was situated. Nothing could be more gloomy than this lodging, in which the ragged paper and soiled paint retained the traces of all the wanderers who had occupied it since the opening of the Hotel des Folies.
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