Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 3, 2025
Lampron saw him to the street, and I heard their steps grow distant in the passage. A moment later Sylvestre returned and held out both hands to me, saying: "Well, are you happy now?" "Of course I am, to a certain extent." "'To a certain extent'! Why, she loves you." "But the obstacles, Sylvestre!" "Nonsense!" "Perhaps insurmountable those were his words."
Nothing was alive in this part of the room, nothing alight except a few rare glints upon the gold of the frames, and the blades of two crossed swords. Only in a corner, at the far end, at a distance exaggerated by the shadows, sat Lampron engraving, solitary, motionless, beneath the light of a lamp. His back was toward me.
Madame Lorinet couldn't tear herself away from it. 'Nothing but men, she said, 'have you noticed that, Jules? 'Well, Madame, I said, 'that's just how it is here; except for me, and I don't count, only gentlemen come here. I've kept house for bachelors where well, there are not many "That will do, Madame Menin; that will do. I know you always think too highly of me. Hasn't Lampron been here?"
Go, Monsieur, you will find your daughter great names, fat purses, gold lace, long beards, swelling waistbands, reputations, pretensions, justified or not, everything, in short, in which he is poor; but him you will never find again! That is all I have to tell you." Lampron had become animated and spoke with heat. There was the slightest flash of anger in his eyes.
"I'm surprised at that." "Why so? I have never seen you." "You have taken my portrait!" "Really!" I was watching Lampron, who was plainly angered at this brusque introduction.
Madame Lampron does not hoard; she only fills the place of those dams of cut turf which the peasants build in the channels of the Berry in spring; the water passes over them, beneath them, even through them, but still a little is left for the great droughts. I love my friend Lampron, though fully aware of his superiority.
Surely I was inspired when I did her that service. I never thought I should be repaid. And here I am repaid both capital and interest. Yet I hesitated. She snatched my consent. "No, no," said she, "leave me to act. I promise you, Monsieur Mouillard, that she shall hear of it, and you, Monsieur Lampron, that the picture shall be framed."
Lampron saw him to the street, and I heard their steps grow distant in the passage. A moment later Sylvestre returned and held out both hands to me, saying: "Well, are you happy now?" "Of course I am, to a certain extent." "'To a certain extent'! Why, she loves you." "But the obstacles, Sylvestre!" "Nonsense!" "Perhaps insurmountable those were his words."
She, who never stopped knitting to talk or to listen, laid her work upon her knees, and fixed her eyes upon me, filled with anxiety. "Has he told you?" Lampron who was poking the fire, his slippered feet stretched out toward the hearth, turned his head. "No, mother, I merely told him that we had received a basket of flowers. Not much to confide. Yet why should he not know all?
Dreamers make no confidences; they shrivel up into themselves and are caught away on the four winds of heaven. Politics drive them mad; gossip fails to interest them; the sorrows they create have no remedy save the joys that they invent; they are natural only when alone, and talk well only to themselves. The only man who can put up with this moody contrariety of mine is Sylvestre Lampron.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking