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Updated: May 5, 2025
There is excellent character, also, as well as caricature in the drama; not only Calchas is admirably done, but Agamemnon, and Achilles, and Helen, and Menelaus, "pas un mari ordinaire ... un mari epique," and the burlesque is good of its kind. It is artistic, as it seems French dramatic effort must almost necessarily be.
At three, to minister's; begged to call tomorrow at twelve. November 25. At twelve, the minister's; was at once received; he is the transcript of our Mari, only fifteen years older, but marked with the same characters. His reception was courteous, but with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. At once offered me passports to any frontier town, but has no authority to do more.
De vrbe Constantinopoli, et reltquijs ibidem contentis. Constantinopolis pulchra est Ciuitas, et nobilis, triangularis in forma, firmiterque murata, cuius duae partes includuntur mari Hellesponto, quod plurimi modo appellant brachium sancti Georgij, et aliqui Buke, Troia vetus.
And wise are ye who, immune from all love's sorrow, win incessant joy in surveying Cythara through telescopes. Suave mari magno, I murmured. And this second tag caused me to awake from my dream shivering. A strange dream? Yet a precisely parallel reality had inspired it. I had been taken over-night my first visit to the National Sporting Club.
I have nothing to say of myself, nor any thing to ask of you which has not been often asked. Tell me that Mari is happy, and I shall know that you are so. Adieu, my dear little negligent baggage. Yes; one question. Do you leave your cards T. B. A. or Joseph A.? What are L. N.'s? And one injunction repeated. Do not suffer a tooth to be drawn, or any operation to be performed on your teeth.
"Well, who doubts it?" said Don Quixote. "I doubt it," replied Sancho Panza, "because for my part I am persuaded that though God should shower down kingdoms upon earth, not one of them would fit the head of Mari Gutierrez. Let me tell you, senor, she is not worth two maravedis for a queen; countess will fit her better, and that only with God's help."
"Thank God, he has gone!" thinks the singer. "Now I can sleep." And as she falls asleep she thinks of her mari d'elle, what sort of a man he is, and how this affliction has come upon her. At one time he used to live at Tchernigov, and had a situation there as a book-keeper.
Leaving Mrs. Willoughby in deep consultation with Mari' on the subject of this feast, we will next look after the two sweet girls whom we so abruptly deserted in the last chapter.
"Ne crois pas que le mari lui ressemble," apologized Margaret. "Il est tout a fait different." "Henry!" she repeated, quite distinctly. Mr. Wilcox was much annoyed. "I can't congratulate you on your proteges," he remarked. "Hen, don't go. You do love me, dear, don't you?" "Bless us, what a person!" sighed Margaret, gathering up her skirts. Jacky pointed with her cake. "You're a nice boy, you are."
Oh, the ecstacy of that hour! The ecstacy of our first kiss! From that time on it was "mon petit mari" and "ma petite femme." The greatest joy in life for me, for us, was to sit together, holding each other's hands, and repeating from time to time, "J' t'aime tant, j' t'aime tant." Now and then we would vary it with a fugue upon our names "Hélène!" "Paul!" He laughed.
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