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And Franchi looked round upon his audience with a glance of gratified malice. "Even in Lucca! even in Lucca!" Malatesta clapped his hands and chuckled until he almost choked. "Laus Veneri! the mighty goddess! She has reared an altar even here in this benighted city. I was a skeptic, but a Paphian miracle has converted me. I must drink a punch in honor of the great goddess."
On returning to Europe she made another tour, but shortly afterwards she married Count Franchi Verney della Valetta, a distinguished Italian critic, and retired into private life, though from time to time she was heard in concerts in Italy. In 1897 she was again on the concert stage, and played at St.
I hastily looked at the volumes; they denoted a student of liberal mind. A few minutes later, and my host, M. Lucien de Franchi, entered. I observed that he was young, of sunburnt complexion, well made, and fearless and resolute in his bearing.
Having with a gesture summoned round him the police, he opened the door and led the way into the room beyond. It was a large refectory, with a long table down the middle. At the near end of it sat Dr. Franchi, with lifted glass; down the sides were ranged the lost delegates.
Franchi, looking at him for the first time, "the passage she will take.... So, Angelo, this is your work. I might have guessed. Gentlemen, my only and distinguished brother." With a bow he introduced Signor Cristofero to his guests. The detective smiled grimly at him, and addressed him in the Italian of the Lombardy Alps. "This point is mine, I think, Silvio.
Franchi! At that magic word, which was evidently understood, the pirates only held the two youths tightly, vituperating them no doubt in bad Arabic, Lanty grinding his teeth with rage, though scarcely feeling the pain of the two sabre cuts he had received, and pouring forth a volley of exclamations, chiefly, however, directed against the white-livered spalpeens of sailors, who had not lifted so much as a hand to help him.
Otherwise it was superb. Who has been ill-treating you, Franchi, to make you so savage?" Franchi put up his eye-glass and stared at him. "When there is good wine, I prefer to drink it without women. They distract me." "Never saw such a reception in Lucca," said Count Malatesta; "never drank such wine. Go on, caro mio, go on, and prosper. We will all support you, but we cannot imitate you."
One night, five days after the funeral, I was working late at my writing-table, when my servant entered, and told me in a frightened tone that M. de Franchi wanted to speak to me. "Who?" I said, in astonishment. "M. de Franchi, sir, your friend the gentleman who has been here once or twice to see you." "You must be out of your senses, Victor! Don't you know that he died five days ago?"
At supper, Madame de Franchi could not help expressing her anxiety for her absent son. No letter had been received, but Lucien for days had been feeling wretched and depressed. "We are twins," he said simply, "and however greatly we are separated, we have one and the same body, as we had at our birth. When anything happens to one of us, be it physical or mental, it at once affects the other.
Lewes has found a book by an Italian named Franchi, formerly a priest, on the present condition of philosophy in Italy. He emerges from its depths or shallows to send his best remembrances; and to Bice he begs especially to recommend Plantation Bitters.
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