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Updated: May 25, 2025
But since I was to be married, I could not leave my beloved Nonotte a dubious widowhood. We even invited a number of Bohemian couples to the wedding-feast, and bade them follow our example in daring the last step of all. Ha! ha! there is nothing like a convert's zeal, you see. But convert to Catholicism, that's another pair of sleeves.
Oh, how I love to see her go off to Mass every morning with her toilette nicely adjusted and her dainty prayer-book in her neatly gloved hand, for she's adorably religious, is my little Nonotte. You look surprised; did you then think religious people shock me!" She smiled a little. "But don't you shock her?" "I wouldn't for worlds utter a blasphemy she could understand.
Dear Nonotte! You should have seen her dancing at the school ball, as graceful and maidenly as the smallest shrimp of them all. What gaieté de cœur! What good humor! What mother-wit! And such a faithful chum. Ah, the French women are wonderful. We have been married fifteen years, and still, when I hear her laugh come through that door, my soul turns from the gates of death and remembers the sun.
He is not so dull and solemn as the parsons make out. He made the kitten to chase its tail and my Nonotte to laugh and dance. Come again, dear child, for my friends have grown used to my dying, and expect me to die for ever an inverted immortality. But one day they will find the puppet-show shut up and the jester packed in his box. Good-bye. God bless you, little Lucy, God bless you."
"Well, I was weary of the chopped grass cook calls spinach. I don't want seven years of Nebuchadnezzardom." "Cook is angry when you don't eat her things, chéri. I find it difficult to get on with her, since you praised her dainty style. One would think she was the mistress and I the servant." "Ah, Nonotte, you don't understand the artistic temperament." Then a twitch passed over his face.
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