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Mademoiselle Hortense eyes him with a scowl upon her tight face, which gradually changes into a smile of scorn, "You are very mysterieuse. Are you drunk?" "Tolerable sober, my angel," returns Mr. Bucket. "I come from arriving at this so detestable house with your wife. Your wife have left me since some minutes. They tell me downstairs that your wife is here. I come here, and your wife is not here.
The French consul, whom I met in the road, told me, with une maniere mysterieuse, that he had something to communicate on that subject. Maybe he is come, maybe he isn't. I conjecture that he is come or coming. Here they come, in earnest. I see only one lady in the carriage; so miss has not come; well, she may stay. New-York, August 8, 1803.
The French consul, whom I met in the road, told me, with une maniere mysterieuse, that he had something to communicate on that subject. Maybe he is come, maybe he isn't. I conjecture that he is come or coming. Here they come, in earnest. I see only one lady in the carriage; so miss has not come; well, she may stay. New-York, August 8, 1803.
His mind wandered to the scents he knew Chaminade, Mystérieuse, Trèfle Incarnat but this was different. Delicate, sensuous, with the slightest suggestion of jasmine about it, it seemed to permeate every part of him. Vaguely expectant, he waited for something that he knew must happen.
A translation, undertaken, it appears, with the permission of Sheridan himself, was published in London, in the year 1789, by a Monsieur Bunell Delille, who, in a dedication to "Milord Macdonald," gives the following account of the origin of his task: "Vous savez, Milord, de quelle maniere mysterieuse cette piece, qui n'a jamais ete imprime que furtivement, se trouva l'ete dernier sur ma table, en manuscrit, in-folio; et, si vous daignez vous le rappeler, apres vous avoir fait part de l'aventure, je courus chez Monsieur Sheridan pour lui demander la permission," &c. &c.
En effet cela a eu plus d’effet d’entendre l’avocat, emporté par je ne sais quelle mystèrieuse poussée, crier, après avoir cité les principes ainsi: ‘Monsieur le Juge! n’est-ce pas lá en somme l’idéal vers lequel marche actuellement notre pays avec en tète notre Grand Gazi?’”
Rose mystérieuse, priez pour nous. Maison d'or, Etoile du matin, priez pour nous. Santé des infirmes, priez pour nous." Henry Clairville listened. Gradually he sank into the chair, and the tears, the slow, painful, smarting tears of weak mind and middle age coursed down his thin, pitted cheeks. Madame sat down too and sobbed. "Oh, have I offended you, m'sieu? Why did I pray?
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