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Updated: June 8, 2025
This is the church of nuns known as l'Abbaye Blanche, a foundation of Count William of Mortain in 1105. As the next year he was taken at Tinchebray and kept in prison for the rest of his days, he was not likely to do much in the way of building. The church described long ago by Gally Knight and De Caumont is palpably later than his day.
We went to Madame Recamier's, in her convent L'Abbaye aux Bois, up seventy-eight steps; all came in with the asthma: elegant room, and she as elegant as ever. Matthieu de Montmorenci, the ex-Queen of Sweden, Madame de Boigne a charming woman, and Madame la Marechale de Moreau a battered beauty, smelling of garlic, and screeching in vain to pass for a wit.
Into whose hands will fall that incomparable copy of the "Histoire de l'Abbaye de Saint-Germain-des-Pres," on the margins of which the author himself, in the person of Jacques Bouillard, made such substantial notes in his own handwriting?... Master Bonnard, you are an old fool! Your housekeeper poor soul! is nailed down upon her bed with a merciless attack of rheumatism.
He thrust his head out of the window, ordered a general halt; and, instead of taking me to the quarters of the National, resolved to have the merit of delivering up an "agent of Pitt and English guineas" to the master of the Republic alone. "A l'Abbaye!" was his cry.
The black-bearded Frenchman, who seemed to be, if not one of the proprietors, at least one of the managers of L'Abbaye, appeared in the clear space at the center of the room between the tables and waved his hands. He was either much excited or wished to seem so. He shouted something in French which I could not understand.
An acquaintance of mine took his wife and a couple of friends one evening to what is known as L'Abbaye, in Montmartre. Knowing that it had a reputation for being expensive, he resisted, somewhat self-consciously, the delicate suggestions of the head waiter and ordered only one bottle of champagne, caviar for four, and a couple of cigars.
"I came to you," I began mine was a delicate errand and hard to state "I came to you to ask if you could tell me where Miss Morley has gone. She has left L'Abbaye and has given up her room at her lodgings. She has gone somewhere. Do you know where she is?" It was quite evident that he did know. I could see it in his face. He did not answer, however.
Give it up." She rose from her chair and standing by the window looked out into the street. Suddenly she turned and looked at me. "Would it please you if I gave up singing at L'Abbaye?" she asked quietly. "You know it would." "And if I did would you and Miss Cahoon go back to England at once?" Here was another question, one that I found very hard to answer. I tried to temporize.
Many Scots of the 15th and 9th Divisions, many New-Zealanders, many London men of the 47th and 56th Divisions, fell, killed or wounded, to the right of them, on the way to Martinpuich, and Eaucourt l'Abbaye and Flers, from High Wood and Longueval, and Bazentin.
To the driver of the first taxicab he met, Lanyard said "L'Abbaye," then shutting himself within the conveyance, surrendered to the most morose reflections. Nothing of this mood was, however, apparent in his manner on alighting.
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