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Updated: June 17, 2025
Best, perhaps, in his own strong words, when he spoke of Carlyle with perhaps the arriere pensee that the words would apply as strongly to himself. "His favourite author," says he, "was one writing on heroes in a style resembling either early architecture or utter dilapidation, so loose and rough it seemed.
I feel quite in the mood of that morning when we walked down Broadway on our wedding journey. Don't you?" "Oh yes. But I know I'm not younger; I'm only prettier." She laughed for pleasure in his joke, and also for unconscious joy in the gay New York weather, in which there was no 'arriere pensee' of the east wind.
It takes an eternity to sound the infinite. We won't talk of you: we can talk about other people. Ask me what I have been doing." All this time she held his hand, but in such sisterly, kind fashion, that he felt more at ease with her than it was ever possible to be with Pensée, who was timid, and therefore disturbing. "Have you accepted Marshire?" he asked at once.
I have lived without forethought or arrière pensée without the weakness of regrets or the stinginess of precautions, and then he turned to me his eyes were half shut and his voice was muffled as if a flood were battering on the door of his dispassionateness, 'I have had everything in life except you, he said. I smiled at him, a little sadly, a little cynically.
When I the next day mentioned it to General de M , whom you have known as an emigrant officer in your service, but whom policy has since ranged under the colours of Bonaparte, he assured me that these discussions about the Imperial throne are very frequent among the superior officers, and have caused many bloody scenes; and that hardly any of our generals of any talent exist who have not the same 'arriere pensee of some day or other.
David walked about the room, looking for things he did not want, and asking questions he did not wish answered, although he hoped they would interest his mother. But his spirits soon flagged. The conversation became trivial and absurd. "Where are you staying?" asked Mrs. Rennes. "I am with Pensée Fitz Rewes," said Agnes; "she has gone in the carriage to do a little shopping.
Luncheon was then announced: the sliding doors which separated the dining-room from Lord Garrow's library were rolled back. They all walked in Pensée and Sara leading the way. "A sweet creature!" whispered his lordship behind their backs, indicating Lady Fitz Rewes. He sighed as he spoke. He could never feel that there was not something deplorable in Sara's physical brilliancy.
It was the anniversary of Lord Fitz Rewes's death. The two women went to Catesby, where they visited his grave together, prayed together, and, in the quiet evening, sat by the library fire. "This is a great contrast for you after all the excitement on Saturday night," said Pensée. "You are full of surprises, Brigit.
The San Franciscan speaks always with a tender, regretful affection of that dead city, but, as is natural, he speaks of it less and less. For myself, I am glad now that I never saw the city that was; for I can love the city that is with no arriere pensee.
Anyone might have made the same remark with no arrière pensée in their words. Mrs. Mervill could not. Her remark contained an invitation; Michael knew it. "Can you never get away?" she asked. "It would be my expedition, if you would run it for me." Michael moved from her side, with the pretence of drawing a chair to within speaking distance of her.
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