Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 18, 2025
Frowenfeld had contracted a habit of falling into meditation whenever the French language left him out of the conversation. "Yes," he said, breaking a contemplative pause, "the climate is too comfortable and the soil too rich, though I do not think it is entirely on their account that the people who enjoy them are so sadly in arrears to the civilized world."
He presented a small, leather-covered case, evidently containing some optical instrument. He was not going to let the apothecary know he had taken such a fancy to him. "I do not know," replied Frowenfeld, as he touched the spring of the case; "I will see what I have." He passed into the back room, more than willing to get out of sight till he might better collect himself.
You will leave it with me, Joseph." "No, no," said Frowenfeld, "I thank you, but " "Ah! my dear boy, thank me not; I cannot help these impulses; I belong to a warm-hearted race. But" he drew back in his chair sidewise and made great pretence of frowning "you decline the offices of that precious possession, a Creole friend?" "I only decline to be shielded by a fiction."
Joseph Frowenfeld was hurt; her dependence upon his good offices was gone.
"Professor," said the old man, extending something like the paw of a lion, and giving Frowenfeld plenty of time to become thoroughly awed, "this is a pleasure as magnificent as unexpected! A scientific man? in Louisiana?" He looked around upon the doctors as upon a graduating class. "Professor, I am rejoiced!" He paused again, shaking the apothecary's hand with great ceremony.
"The conversation we had some weeks ago, Mr. Frowenfeld, has started a train of thought in my mind" he began to smile as if to convey the idea that Joseph would find the subject a trivial one "which has almost brought me to the " A light footfall accompanied with the soft sweep of robes cut short his words.
Frowenfeld, as he broke his loaf, noticed this, and, as the landlord turned his face to speak, wondered that he had not before seen the common likeness. "Dez stog," said the sombre man. "What, sir? Oh! dead stock? But how can the materials of an education be dead stock?" The landlord shrugged. He would not argue the point.
The imperturbable Valentine, with one preventing arm laid across the breast of the expected victim and an open hand held restrainingly up for truce, stood between the two men and said: "Professor Frowenfeld one moment " Frowenfeld's face was ashen. "Don't speak, sir!" he exclaimed. "If I attempt to parley I shall break every bone in his body. Don't speak! I can guess your explanation he is drunk.
Frowenfeld bore the gaze. There was one element of emphatic satisfaction in it it drew their observation from Clotilde at the other end of the shop. He stole a glance backward; she was not there. She had watched her chance, safely escaped through the side door, and was gone. Raoul returned. "'Sieur Frowenfel', Doctor Keene is took worse ag'in.
The patient spoke: "Eh bi'n, Miché?" Her look was severe, but less aggressive. The shuffle of the old negress's feet was heard and she appeared bearing warm and cold water and fresh bandages; after depositing them she tarried. "Your fever is gone," said Frowenfeld, standing by the bed. He had laid his fingers on her wrist.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking