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Updated: May 12, 2025
In the days of the Second Empire, the Restaurant des Freres-Provencaux still enjoyed a wide renown to which its fifty years of existence had contributed more than a little to heighten its fame.
As soon as they were in his presence, Henri could not restrain a start of surprise, for he recognized Constantin Lenaieff, one of his adversaries on the fatal night of the Freres-Provencaux. "Who are you?" demanded the Major, brusquely. "A dealer in Belgian cattle, purveyor to the German intendant," hazarded the prisoner, who had his reply all prepared. "You nonsense!
As soon as they were in his presence, Henri could not restrain a start of surprise, for he recognized Constantin Lenaieff, one of his adversaries on the fatal night of the Freres-Provencaux. "Who are you?" demanded the Major, brusquely. "A dealer in Belgian cattle, purveyor to the German intendant," hazarded the prisoner, who had his reply all prepared. "You nonsense!
Affairs were in this situation when, immediately after Henri's triumph at the race-track, a bettor on the opposite side paid one of his wagers by offering to the victor a grand dinner at the Freres-Provencaux. The hero of the night was seated at the middle of one side of the table, in the place of honor.
After a short walk they took breakfast at the Freres-Provencaux, in one of those little rooms which are, all things considered, the most beautiful spots in the world. There, when the garcon had left them, they sat near the windows hand in hand.
The method of blending these materials was a professional secret of the Freres-Provencaux.
The method of blending these materials was a professional secret of the Freres-Provencaux.
Affairs were in this situation when, immediately after Henri's triumph at the race-track, a bettor on the opposite side paid one of his wagers by offering to the victor a grand dinner at the Freres-Provencaux. The hero of the night was seated at the middle of one side of the table, in the place of honor.
In the days of the Second Empire, the Restaurant des Freres-Provencaux still enjoyed a wide renown to which its fifty years of existence had contributed more than a little to heighten its fame.
As soon as they were in his presence, Henri could not restrain a start of surprise, for he recognized Constantin Lenaieff, one of his adversaries on the fatal night of the Freres-Provencaux. "Who are you?" demanded the Major, brusquely. "A dealer in Belgian cattle, purveyor to the German intendant," hazarded the prisoner, who had his reply all prepared. "You nonsense!
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