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Updated: July 26, 2025
I brought a tiny bunch of lilies of the valley, which Louis had gathered in the all-producing hothouse. "Merci, merci," he said. "Les fleurs! C'est la vie parfumee." Waiting for the breakfast to be served, he showed us about in his apartment. In the salon, rather primly furnished, stood the grand piano.
Doctor Birch's, Market Rodborough, if you read this, will you please send me a line, and let me know what was the joke Mr Merryman made about having his dinner? You remember well enough. But do I want to know? Suppose a boy takes a favourite, long-cherished lump of cake out of his pocket, and offers you a bit? Merci! The fact is, I don't care much about knowing that joke of Mr Merryman's.
A minute later he got up, and looking at the surprised lieutenant, with his eyes full of tears from laughing, said: "Close the door. Well . . . she is a fe-e-male, I beg to inform you!" "Did you get the IOUs?" Kryukov waved his hand and went off into a peal of laughter again. "Well! she is a female!" he went on. "Merci for the acquaintance, my boy! She's a devil in petticoats.
It is passion for a Lamia, for La Belle Dame sans Merci. Keats's ecstasies were swooning ecstasies. They lacked joy. It is not only in the Ode to a Nightingale that he seems to praise death more than life. This was temperamental with him. He felt the "cursed spite" of things as melancholily as Hamlet did.
In fact he is laying down the pen for good, and this graceful Merci is addressed to the public in grateful acknowledgment of the constant enthusiasm with which it has for so many years greeted his unswerving loyalty to true Russian thought." Yulia Mihailovna was at the acme of bliss.
"Thank you," said I; "and I also beg your pardon and withdraw my adjectives." "Merci, Your Highness," he answered. "Let us consider the matter closed?" "With pleasure," said I. "And I shall hope to have the honor of crossing swords foils, I mean, with you, some day," he said meaningly. "The hope is intensely mutual, my dear Duke," I answered. He drew himself up to attention and saluted stiffly.
Then I had to put him down, because of course I had flopped down in the wrong place. I notice that in small boats one always does. The child took his cap off again and said "merci," and I had to smile at Yves, the Frenchman, whose grin distinctly showed that the way to his heart lies through that kiddy. We were off at once, and I sat astern near the ancient.
A second girl, taller, older, slower, but equally smiling, was taking Pennell's cap and stick and gloves, making play with her eyes the while. "Merci, chérie," he heard his friend say and then, in a totally different voice: "Ah! Bon jour Marie." A third girl was before them. In her presence the other two withdrew.
Doctor Birch's, Market Rodborough, if you read this, will you please send me a line, and let me know what was the joke Mr. Merryman made about having his dinner? YOU remember well enough. But do I want to know? Suppose a boy takes a favorite, long-cherished lump of cake out of his pocket, and offers you a bite? Merci! The fact is, I DON'T care much about knowing that joke of Mr. Merryman's.
"I suppose I should have gone allowed myself to be dismissed as a boy from school. 'I have played with you; you have amused me; you no longer do so. Adieu! So she would have said to me, if not in words, by implication. No, merci," he broke off angrily. "Tant s'en faut! I, too, shall have something to say and soon to-night !" He made a swift gesture, threw his cigar into the sea and walked off.
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