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"It fills my cup of shame to overflowing. Yet, come to think of things, you did much the same without realising it." "Which makes a vast difference, surely?" "Not to me, mon ami. It is only God who judges by the intention; possibly because He never suffers from the action." "Quita! That's irreverent!" "Is it? I'm sorry if it sets your Scottish prickles on end!

"Ah says, went on Learoyd, 'Young mon, that mon's gooin' to have t' goons out o' Thursday to-morrow an' thot's more work for you, young mon. Now, sitha, tak' a tat an' a lookri, an' ride tha domdest to t' Padsahi Jhil. Cotch thot there hekka, and tell t' driver iv your lingo thot you've coorn to tak' his place. T' Sahib doesn't speak t' bat, an' he's a little mon.

"But your highness must not believe it too lightly; might there not have been a man hidden in her room?" "Yes, doubtless, but Bussy, who was in the corridor, would have seen him." "That is true." "And then the gloves " "Yes, and besides the kiss, I heard " "What?" "Three words, 'Till to-morrow evening." "Oh! mon Dieu!" "So that, if you like, we can make sure." "Aurilly, we will go."

This blessing of the old soldier, the only one bestowed upon their marriage-day, shed a balm on Ginevra's heart. They parted with hearty shakings of hand; Luigi thanked his landlord. "Adieu, 'mon brave," he said to the sergeant. "I thank you." "I am now and ever at your service, colonel, soul, body, horses, and carriages; all that is mine is yours." "How he loves you!" said Ginevra.

"Ye will be surprised, doubtless, Captain Fleetwood, at my sending for ye again to-day," said the governor, in a kind tone, as he entered. "But sit down, mon, sit down and rest yourself, for I have a very extraordinary communication to make to ye, which I cannot fail to think will agitate ye; and I therefore considered it advisable to speak to ye on the subject myself."

Mon coeur volage, dit elle, N'est pas pour vous, garcon; Est pour un homme de guerre, Qui a barbe au menton. Lon, Lon, Laridon. Qui port chapeau a plume, Soulier a rouge talon, Qui joue de la flute, Aussi du violon. Lon, Lon, Laridon.

I fitted my glasses on my nose and read. In the sprawling, strong, illiterate hand I saw and felt Elodie. Mon petit Andre But I must translate inadequately, for the grammar and phrasing were Elodesque. It is the best means to regain happiness. For the things that are still at the Cirque Vendramin, do with them what you will.

Deliberately she had lured him into the ambush which would have proved fatal for him had it not been for Jean Croisset. And she was not a mute! He had heard her voice; when that death-grip was tightest about his throat there had come to him that terrified cry: "Mon Dieu, you are killing him killing him!" His breath came a little faster as he whispered the words to himself.

It seemed to make us once more members of the great human family which lives peaceably and tranquilly, and whose breath is not war and conquest and defeat and war again. One of Gaston's favorite songs was that old, old one, O Richard, O mon roi, l'univers t'abandonne. There was some mutual understanding about this song between Francezka and Gaston Cheverny.

'Of course we will, said the English lady; 'either before or after our visit to Venice delicious Venice! 'Which you have not seen hein? Mr. Pericles snarled; 'and have not smelt. There is no music in Venice! But you have nothing but street tinkle-tinkle! A place to live in! mon Dieu! The lady smiled.