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"When they came to Pere Lachaise, and wanted to enter the cemetery, the driver stopped them and asked for his pay. Then it appeared that neither had any money, which they smilingly explained, and asked him in bad French to wait and drive them home again. But the two gentlemen with the big soft hats had not inspired the driver with any marked degree of confidence.
And five dark figures, wrapped in cloaks, gradually detached themselves from the throng, and one by one slipped into the grounds of Pere Lachaise through that break in the wall, which is quite close to the main entrance. Once more the sea-gull's cry. Those in the crowd who heard it, shivered beneath their dripping clothes.
The crowd was very thick here; the Barriere Menilmontant was close by, and beyond it there was the cemetery of Pere Lachaise.
In the hollows lights were already beginning to twinkle, like ships' lanterns, through the violet mists that were rising; chimneys seemed to leap upward like masts, or steamer funnels discharging their smoke. Those three undulations, with the tide of Pere Lachaise, were clearly suggestive of waves of the sea, following each other at equal intervals.
Something that she could put on at once, or at least something that would be ready for her to wear the next day when she went out with Monsieur Paindavoine. "Ah, you are going out with Monsieur Vulfran?" said Madame Lachaise quickly; her curiosity was strung to its highest pitch at this statement.
"Dad caught that all right without waiting for me to translate it. What he wanted to get at, right at the jump off, was whether Paula knew LaChaise had come down to talk about her. Was he to consider Mr. LaChaise her emissary? I took a chance on émissaire for that and it worked all right. "Well, the Frenchman said, as cool as you please, that he was.
Without a word Mary dropped down beside him on the settee. In the middle of a phrase the music stopped. "A vous le tour!" they heard LaChaise say to Novelli. "Je ne suis pas assez pianiste. Maintenant! Recommencons, n'est-ce-pas?" The song resumed. March's frame stiffened. "Oh night! do I not see my love fluttering out among the breakers? What is that little black thing I see there in the white?"
Rowe was lying, with all her secrets and plots, in Père Lachaise to the grief, among others, of the Reverend Horace Mohun, who would hardly be comforted by Lucy's handsome continuance of the buttered toast and first look at the Times.
Added to these, the three modern photographers Alfred Stieglitz, Charles Sheeler, and Paul Strand must be included. Besides these indigenous names, shall we place the foreign artists whose work falls into line in the movement toward modern art in America, Joseph Stella, Marcel Duchamp, Gaston Lachaise, Eli Nadelman.
At "Père Lachaise" Cemetery, in Paris, a weather-beaten obelisk and a broken stone tablet indicate the spot where the remains of François Champollion rest. A monument which was erected in his honor at his native town, Figeac, bears the well-chosen inscription which so frequently occurs among the titles of the Pharaohs in hieroglyphics, "'anch zete," i.e., "everlasting."
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