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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Very good, sir," Benassis broke in; "M. Gravier's room is in readiness. Come in." They went into the house, the doctor flinging open the door with an eagerness that Genestas attributed to his pleasure at receiving a boarder. "Jacquotte!" Benassis called out. "This gentleman will dine with us." "But would it not be as well for us to settle about the payment?"
They prided themselves on being alone in appreciating his genius; and though, with the contempt of youth for the follies of middle-age, they patronised him among themselves, they did not fail to look upon it as a feather in their caps if he had chosen a time when only one was there to be particularly wonderful. Cronshaw never came to Gravier's.
The jealousy of the President de Boirouge, and Monsieur Gravier's hatred, for he believed in the candidate's supremacy in Dinah's heart, had been worked upon by a young Sous-prefet; and for this worthy deed the allies got the young man made a prefet elsewhere.
He began to describe in detail the beauties of the picture, but at this table at Gravier's they who spoke at length spoke for their own edification. No one listened to him. The American interrupted angrily. "You don't mean to say you think the head's good?"
That was not her real name, but by that she was distinguished at Gravier's to emphasise the picture's beauty notwithstanding the somewhat revolting peculiarity of the sitter's appearance.
Those of our readers who wish for circumstantial details, should refer to M. Gabriel Gravier's interesting publication, the most complete work on the subject, and from which we have borrowed all that relates to the Norman expeditions.
At Gravier's where they ate, and in the evening at the Versailles or at the Closerie des Lilas Clutton was inclined to taciturnity. He sat quietly, with a sardonic expression on his gaunt face, and spoke only when the opportunity occurred to throw in a witticism. He liked a butt and was most cheerful when someone was there on whom he could exercise his sarcasm.
She walked past him, out of the studio, and Philip, with a shrug of the shoulders, limped along to Gravier's for luncheon. "It served her right," said Lawson, when Philip told him what had happened. "Ill-tempered slut." Lawson was very sensitive to criticism and, in order to avoid it, never went to the studio when Foinet was coming. "I don't want other people's opinion of my work," he said.
Lawson would become acquainted with some young thing and make an appointment; for twenty-four hours he would be all in a flutter and describe the charmer at length to everyone he met; but she never by any chance turned up at the time fixed. He would come to Gravier's very late, ill-tempered, and exclaim: "Confound it, another rabbit! I don't know why it is they don't like me.
The owner of the tile-works agreed to take it over without disputing about its condition, and I looked round for new tenants who would take their part in improving the industries of the canton. "Mme. Gravier's waiting-maid had married a poor workman, who was earning so little with the potter who employed him that he could not support his household.
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