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Updated: June 23, 2025
But a fool is no wonder to me any more; I find myself to be that kind." When, hypocritically clad in dressing-gown and slippers, I stopped at my guest's inner door and Fontenette opened it just enough to let me enter, I saw, indeed, a wonderful sight.
Then I made all haste to my own house again and had the relief to see, as Senda came toward me from her husband's room, that he had told her nothing. "Vell?" she eagerly asked. "Well, Monsieur Fontenette is greatly improved!" "O sat iss goodt! And se Madame; she, too, is betteh? a little? eh no-o?"
"Anyhow," cooed Senda, "I risk it;" and then to his wife "For se present, siss betteh I sew for you san spell for you." Thus was our fair neighbor at every turn overmatched by the trustful love of the man and watchful love of the woman, whose fancied inferiority was her excuse for an illicit infatuation; an infatuation which little by little became a staring fact only not to Fontenette.
Fontenette was by this time tired, and she never again felt rested when her husband mentioned the game.
I noticed the perfection of his dress; evidently he had not as yet loosed as much as a shoestring. And then I observed also that the visitor so close before him was without his shoes. "Good-evening or, good-morning, perchance," said Fontenette. "I suepose thaz a great thing to remove those old stain' that chloroform, eh?" "Ach! it iss you? Ach, you must coom coom undt hellup me!
Fontenette asking to be shown one of them, they reopened the book together, she all consciousness as she bent against him over the page, he oblivious of everything but the phrase they were hunting. He gave his forehead a tap of despair as he showed where the book called this same Tillandsia, or Spanish moss, a parasite.
A small looking-glass hanging against the wooden cistern showed me although I was in much the stronger light Monsieur Fontenette. He was just straightening up from an oil-stone he had been using, and the reflection of his face fell full on the glass.
O, sare shall neveh a veed be in sat karten two dayss oldt! An' sose roses sey shall be pairfect ever' vun!" As perfect as roses every one were her words kept. And Fontenette got his new business but could not come back that year, nor the second, nor the third.
I had a patient, left alone for a moment on the climacteric day, who was found standing at her mirror combing her hair, and to-day she's as well as you or I. I had another who got out of bed, walked down a corridor, fell face downward and lay insensible at the crack of a doorsill with the rain blowing in on him under the door and he got well. As to Fontenette, all his symptoms so far are good.
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