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Updated: July 16, 2025
"You are too superior a woman to be liked by other women," said the lawyer. Monsieur Gravier, when questioned by the forlorn fair, only, after much entreaty, replied: "Well, lady fair, you are not satisfied to be merely charming. You are clever and well educated, you know every book that comes out, you love poetry, you are a musician, and you talk delightfully.
Bianchon served Lousteau well by making fun of the Public Prosecutor, of Monsieur Gravier, and of Gatien; there was a tone of such genuine contempt in his remarks, that Madame de la Baudraye dared not take the part of her adorers. "I perfectly understand the position you have maintained," said the doctor as they crossed the Loire.
"You have been beating the bush for a will-o'-the-wisp." Monsieur Gravier and Gatien exchanged questioning glances which were meant to convey, "Is there not something offensive to us in that speech? Ought we to laugh or to be angry?" "If Dinah is virtuous," said the journalist in a whisper to Bianchon, "she is worth an effort on my part to pluck the fruit of her first love."
I have been very anxious to make your acquaintance, for I have often heard M. Gravier speak of you. He used to call you, 'one of Plutarch's men." "Plutarch? Nothing of the sort!" answered Genestas. "I am not worthy of you; I could thrash myself. I ought to have told you my secret in a straightforward way at the first. Yet, now!
"You are too superior a woman to be liked by other women," said the lawyer. Monsieur Gravier, when questioned by the forlorn fair, only, after much entreaty, replied: "Well, lady fair, you are not satisfied to be merely charming. You are clever and well educated, you know every book that comes out, you love poetry, you are a musician, and you talk delightfully.
Thence we shall look down upon both valleys, and you will see a magnificent view. The plateau lies three thousand feet above the level of the Mediterranean; we shall see over Savoy and Dauphine, and the mountain ranges of the Lyonnais and Rhone. We shall be in another commune, a hill commune, and on a farm belonging to M. Gravier you will see the kind of scene of which I have spoken.
The French never wearied of extolling the wonderful influence of this symbol of brotherhood. Says Father Gravier, writing of his voyage down the Mississippi, in 1700: "No such honor is paid to the crowns and sceptres of kings as they pay to it. It seems to be the God of peace and war, the arbiter of life and death." Who were the Coureurs de bois.
Monsieur de Clagny and Monsieur Gravier looked at each other, feeling rather silly as they beheld the two Parisians in the carriage, while they, like two simpletons, were left standing at the foot of the steps.
"Then do you think me capable of inventing such a story?" said Monsieur Gravier, nettled by Lousteau's impertinent tone. "Quite incapable of such a thing," said the journalist with grave irony.
Imagine their astonishment and Gatien's delight when all four, candle in hand, and with hardly any clothes on, came to look at the hairs, and found them in perfect preservation on both doors. "Is it the same wax?" asked Monsieur Gravier. "Are they the same hairs?" asked Lousteau. "Yes," replied Gatien. "This quite alters the matter!" cried Lousteau.
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