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Updated: May 22, 2025
On the next hill is a great glade filled with wild strawberries. I'll go and pick some. I'll be back in an hour." "Ha! I should like to, Frantz; it's a good idea. Dr. Weber contends that I drink too much Burgundy. It's necessary to offset wine with mineral water. This little bed of sand pleases me."
Pray come in, Monsieur Frantz. We're waiting for father, as you see. These brigands of artists always stay out so late! Take a seat you shall have supper with him." "Oh! no, thank you," replied Frantz, whose lips were still pale from the emotion he had undergone, "I can't stop.
Frantz felt as if he were living in a horrible dream. The rapid journey, the sudden change of scene and climate, the ceaseless flow of Sigismond's words, the new idea that he had to form of Risler and Sidonie the same Sidonie he had loved so dearly all these things bewildered him and almost drove him mad. It was late. Night was falling.
"Affairs in your brother's house are not as they should be. That woman is false to him with his partner. She has made her husband a laughing-stock, and if this goes on she will cause him to be looked upon as a rascal. Frantz, my boy, you must come home at once. You are the only one who can speak to Risler and open his eyes about that little Sidonie. He would not believe any of us.
With another husband I might perhaps have succeeded, but with Risler it was terrible. He was forever talking about you and your success and your future Frantz said this; Frantz did that He loves you so well, poor fellow! And then the most cruel thing to me is that your brother looks like you.
They might have put the matter before her so that she would keep an eye on Sidonie and talk seriously to her. "Indeed, that's a good idea," Sigismond interrupted. "You must go to the Rue du Mail and tell her parents. I thought at first of writing to little Frantz. He always had a great deal of influence over his brother, and he's the only person on earth who could say certain things to him.
The doctors are mistaken; it is not pneumonia. Is it her love, then, that is killing her? No. Since that terrible night she no longer thinks of Frantz, she no longer feels that she is worthy to love or to be loved. Thenceforth there is a stain upon her spotless life, and it is of the shame of that and of nothing else that she is dying.
To Frantz that was an endless, indelible day of agony.
I saw a light and I just stepped in to tell you to tell you some great news that will make you very happy, because I know that you love me " "Great heavens, what is it?" "Monsieur Frantz Risler and Mademoiselle Sidonie are engaged to be married." "There! didn't I say that all he needed was a good little wife," exclaimed Mamma Delobelle, rising and throwing her arms about his neck.
And if Desiree spoke with great confidence, it was because she was intimately acquainted with the woman who was so well adapted to Frantz Risler's needs. She was only a year younger than he, just enough to make her younger than her husband and a mother to him at the same time. Pretty? No, not exactly, but attractive rather than ugly, notwithstanding her infirmity, for she was lame, poor child!
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