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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Oh! yes, I am a child of chance, and this adventurer is just the husband for me." Je suis une fille d'aventure, et cet aventurier est bien le mari qu'il me faut. "At least you will wait until he's a widower," retorted Jenkins tranquilly. "And in that case you may have to wait a long while, for his Levantine looks to be in excellent health." Felicia Ruys became livid. "He is married?"
Last night Mari Lewis came to ask me for something for her boy; I gave it to her, but she never came to tell me whether it had done him any good," and she smiled as she led the way back to the cottage carrying her bunches of herbs. "Was it Dan?" asked Will. "Yes." "Then he is well, for I saw him ploughing this evening."
Even that devoted wife to her /cher bon mari/, who had so severely dwelt upon the good Regent's infirmity, occupied herself with an earnestness that would have seemed almost wolf-like in a famished grenadier. Very slight indeed was the conversation till the supper was nearly over; then the effects of the wine became more perceptible.
"She is trying it in her own way; she does it very quietly. She doesn't want an American; she wants a foreigner. And she wants a mari serieux. But she is travelling over Europe in search of one. She would like a magistrate." "A magistrate?" "A gros bonnet of some kind; a professor or a deputy." "I am very sorry for the poor girl," I said, laughing.
Yes, madam, we did fear that since no other tongue is spoken in courts and camps or, at all events, in courts we should have some difficulty in following your ideas. But you speak English like a native. It please my mari my what ees it? my husband. He don't talk French heemself not mooch. Nokes. Well, I don't think you should quite say that, my dear.
The first is some words that I have read in the preface; the next that the language is Aragonese, for sometimes he writes without articles; and the third, which above all stamps him as ignorant, is that he goes wrong and departs from the truth in the most important part of the history, for here he says that my squire Sancho Panza's wife is called Mari Gutierrez, when she is called nothing of the sort, but Teresa Panza; and when a man errs on such an important point as this there is good reason to fear that he is in error on every other point in the history."
You remember how it was, do you not? Your husband was lying ill at your hotel; you were very tired of him ce pauvre mari! Well, you had been tired of him for some time, had you not? And he was not what you ladies call 'nice; he did drink, and he did swear, and I had been often to see you when he was out, and had taken you to the theatre and the bal d'Opéra do you remember?"
Give him also a sword or pair of pistols. Burn immediately a small bundle, tied with a red string, which you will find in the little flat writing-case that which we used with the curricle. The bundle is marked "Put." You may hand them to Mari, if you please. My letters to Clara are in the same bundle. You, and by-and-by Aaron Burr Alston, may laugh at gamp when you look over this nonsense.
To the boy a French and English library; and to Mari a beautiful little golden candlestick, and wax tapers to light his segar. My health is infinitely improved, and I attribute it to nothing but the continual bustle I have been kept in for three weeks past. What a charming thing a bustle is. Oh, dear, delightful confusion.
To her the words were magic because they wrought a miracle in her. She had been a girl a child ere those words were spoken. She liked Andor, she liked her father and her mother, little Emma over the way, Mari néni, who was always kind. She had loved them all, been pleased when she saw them, glad to give them an affectionate kiss.
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