United States or Cocos Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
While M. Pelet employed himself in choosing a cigar from a box, my thoughts reverted to the two outcast ushers, whose voices I could hear even now crying hoarsely for order in the playground. "C'est une grande responsabilite, que la surveillance," observed I. "Plait-il?" dit M. Pelet. I remarked that I thought Messieurs Vandam and Kint must sometimes be a little fatigued with their labours.
"Why, what a plague is the woman afraid of?-Did you ever know a Frenchman that could not take an affront?-I warrant Monseer knows what he is about;-don't you Monseer?" M. Du Bois, not understanding him, only said, "plait-il, Monsieur?" "No, nor dish me neither," answered the Captain; "but, be that as it may, what signifies our parleying here?
He had made a sufficient failure of his own life. He did not feel himself competent to offer advice to another. "It's a funny world," he said with a half sigh, "though I suppose it isn't the world that's at fault but the people who live in it," and in his abstraction he spoke in his own language. "Plait-il?"
"Lord! that’s pretty," he murmured, moving on and turning into the arched tunnel which was the entrance to the White Doe Inn. Wandering at random, he encountered the innkeeper in the parlour, studying a crumpled newspaper through horn-rimmed spectacles on his nose. "Tray jolie," said Burley affably, seating himself with an idea of further practice in French. "Plait-il?" "The bells tray beau!"
From that kitchen squabble, recurrent whenever slummers visited them, Madame Loisel swept in haughty determination, leaving Louis to take it out on the pots. As she approached the table, all the charm of France illuminated her smile. She invariably paid slummers the compliment of addressing them in French. "Bonsoir le souper, plait-il vous?" she asked.
In a strong provincial accent he repeated, "Plait-il?" and stood aghast till she had explained herself three times: then suddenly exclaiming, "Ah! c'est ca!" he collected his tools precipitately, and followed to obey her orders. The door of the room was at last forced half open, for a press that had been overturned prevented its opening entirely.
Now this was all very pretty; but then seen at a distance of fifty yards it looked very ugly; and Gatty, who had never before known jealousy, the strongest and worst of human passions, was ripe for anything. He met Lord Ipsden, and said at once, in his wise, temperate way: "Sir, you are a villain!" Ipsden. "Plait-il?" Gatty. "You are a villain!" Ipsden. "How do you make that out?" Gatty.
He is now to have Pleyel's. I heard it two days ago; a capital thing! Peste! il ira loin. We shall have him a senator soon." "Speak for yourself," quoth a ci-devant abbe, with a laugh; "I should be sorry to see him again soon, wherever he be." "Plait-il? I don't understand you!" "Don't you know that Olivier Dalibard is murdered, found stabbed, in his own house, too!" "Ciel!
The French gentleman courteously replied, 'Plait-il? To which Mr Meagles returned with much satisfaction, 'You are right. My opinion. The breakfast beginning by-and-by to languish, Mr Meagles made the company a speech. It was short enough and sensible enough, considering that it was a speech at all, and hearty.
Yes, I am Edgard. Let us have coffee and a cigar, Balderstone." "Plait-il, Monsieur le Vicomte?" says the French Caleb. "Thou comprehendest not English. Thou readest not Valtare Scott, thou!" cries the master. "I was recounting to Monsieur Newcome thy history and my misfortunes. Go seek coffee for us, nigaud."
Word Of The Day