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Updated: June 18, 2025
He found the apothecary among his clerks, preparing with his own hands the "chalybeate tonic" for which the f.m.c. was expected to call. Raoul Innerarity stood at his elbow, looking on with an amiable air of having been superseded for the moment by his master. "Ha-ah! Professor Frowenfeld!" The old man nourished his scroll.
Frowenfeld, it is of no use to talk; you may hold in contempt the Creole scorn of toil just as I do, myself, but in theory, my-de'-seh, not too much in practice. You cannot afford to be entirely different from the community in which you live; is that not so?" "A friend of mine," said Frowenfeld, "has told me I must 'compromise."
As if a dark lantern were suddenly turned full upon it, he saw the significance of Citizen Fusilier's transport. The fair strangers were the widow and daughter of the man whom Agricola had killed in duel the ladies with whom Doctor Keene had desired to make him acquainted. "Well, good evening, Mr. Frowenfeld." "Ah " and then, for the first time, he came to the true object of his visit.
But presently, M. Grandissime uttered a low ejaculation and spurred his horse toward a tree hard by, preparing, as he went, to fasten his rein to an overhanging branch. Frowenfeld, agreeable to his beckon, imitated the movement. "I fear he intends to drown himself," whispered M. Grandissime, as they hurriedly dismounted. "Who? Not " "Yes, your landlord, as you call him.
Grandissime, that is requiring the immigrant to prove his innocence!" Frowenfeld spoke from the heart. "And even the honest immigrant is welcome only when he leaves his peculiar opinions behind him. Is that right, sir?" The Creole smiled at Frowenfeld's heat. "My-de'-seh, my cousins complain that you advocate measures fatal to the prevailing order of society."
Frowenfeld, for once, laughed outright, and it seemed so odd in him to do so that both the ladies followed his example. The ambition to be rich had never entered his thought, although in an unemotional, German way, he was prospering in a little city where wealth was daily pouring in, and a man had only to keep step, so to say, to march into possessions.
"Is this young man in love with her?" he asked himself. He turned around. "Do you know those ladies, Mr. Frowenfeld? Do you visit them at home?" He drew out his porte-monnaie. "No, sir." "I will pay you for the repair of this instrument; have you change for " "I will see," said the apothecary.
While every one's attention was directed toward the wounded man, his antagonist restored his dagger to its sheath, took up his hat and walked away unmolested. When Frowenfeld, with Agricola still in his arms, looked around for the quadroon, he was gone. Doctor Keene, sent for instantly, was soon at Agricola's side. "Take him upstairs; he can't be moved any further."
De mose of de Creole families is not so hold as plenty of my yallah kinfolks!" The apothecary found very soon that a little salt improved M. Raoul's statements. But here he was, a perfect treasure, and Frowenfeld, fleeing before his illimitable talking power in order to digest in seclusion the ancestral episodes of the Grandissimes and De Grapions, laid pleasant plans for the immediate future.
The mother says they are perfectly comfortable; tells the old couple so who took them to the ball, and whose little girl is their embroidery scholar; but you cannot believe a Creole on that subject, and I don't believe her. Would you like to make their acquaintance?" Frowenfeld hesitated, disliking to say no to his friend, and then shook his head.
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