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Updated: May 14, 2025
She strolled to the window, sniffed at Trevvy Morehouse's roses, helped herself to a cigarette and sat down. Hermia was not inartistic and she resented the imputation. It was only that her art and Olga's differed by the breadth of an ocean. "For me, when a man becomes mystified he ceases to be useful," laughed Hermia. "Pouf! my dear," said the Countess with a wave of her cigarette.
Stout and strong as was Madame Dubray, her husband almost kissed the breath out of her body in his rapturous embrace. "But I had no word of your coming " "How could you, pardieu! But you knew the traders were coming in. And a man can't send messengers hundreds of miles." "I looked last year " "Pouf! There are men who stay five or ten years, and have left a wife in France.
At all events, the water carries you away somewhere, so that nobody finds you and your death is shrouded in mystery. The river! She shuddered at the mere thought. But it was not the vision of the deep, black water that terrified her. The girls of Paris laugh at that. You throw your apron over your head so that you can't see, and pouf!
"Magnificence," she said, "my hand is on my heart." It was. "What the devil has that got to do with it?" asked Borso, looking about him for a reason. "Serenity, if my heart were guilty, it would burn my hand. If my hand were red, it would soil my heart." "Pouf!" said Borso, and puckered his face. "Stand back, Castaneve. Now for the little one. How are you called, baggage?"
But it has lighted a fire. Can you do better, Mr. Jupiter?" Remsen made no reply for a moment, but Joel knew that he was smiling there beside him. A little throng of students passed by, humming softly a song in time with their echoing footsteps, and glanced curiously at the forms on the steps. Then Remsen struck a match on the stone. "'Scratch pouf!" he said musingly, relighting his pipe.
"Pouf!" a blinding flash came and a little metallic click of the shutter, followed by a cloud of smoke. As quick as it happened, there went through Del Mar's head, the explanation. It was a concealed camera. He sprang back, clapping his hands over his face. Out of range for a moment, he stood gazing about the room, trying to locate the thing. Suddenly he heard footsteps.
Pouf, the dog, has his place here too, and flits often across the scene, a tiny bit of reflected immortality. These letters represent the bold iconoclast on his best side, kind, simple in his tastes, and loyal to his friends. He was never at home in the great world. He was seen sometimes in the salons of Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. Necker, and others, but he made his stay as brief as possible.
And when thou comest, well one embraces a little music and then pouf! Thou art gone. Is it not so?" He said: "But thou knowest the reason, I am terribly busy. I have all the preoccupations in the world. My committee it is not all smooth, my committee. Everything and everybody depends on me. And in the committee I have enemies too. The fact is, I have become a beast of burden. I dream about it.
"Burial for an Arab pouf!" cried Cigarette in derision. "Parbleu, M. Bel-a-faire-peau, I have seen hundreds of our best soldiers lie rotting on the plains with the birds' beaks at their eyes and the jackals' fangs in their flesh. What was good enough for them is surely good enough for him. You are an eccentric fellow you " He laughed a little.
No, little person, I don't think the law of life is nearly so harsh here as it is where the mob struggles for its daily bread. It's more open and aboveboard here; more up to the individual. But it's lonely sometimes. I guess that's what ails you." "Oh, pouf!" she denied. "I'm not lonely, so long as I've got you.
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