Pouffe! there was much blowing through mouths and a great standing on tiptoes to reach the tall tapers on the reposoirs. Coutances was pious. Coutances was proud of its fete. But Coutances was also a thrifty city. Once the cortege had passed, it was high time to snuff out the tapers.

Together with the swelling music swung the incense into high air; and to the Host the rose-leaves were flung. Still we followed. Still the long line moved on from altar to altar. Then, when the noon was long past, wearily we climbed upward to our inn. In the high streets there was much going to and fro. The shop-keepers already were taking down their linen. Pouffe!

And the lanterns danced a last gay little dance among the roses and the vines before, Pouffe! Pouffe! and behold! they were all blown out. Thus it was we went to bed on the Mont. To awake on a hill-top at sea. This was what morning brought.

"Governesses, maids of honour, women of the bedchamber, noblemen, officers, grooms of the chamber, cooks, scullions, messengers, guards, beadles, pages, and footmen; she also touched the horses in the stables, the grooms, the great mastiffs in the yard, and little Pouffe, the Princess's lap-dog, which lay near her upon her bed. * Contes de Perrault, édition Aadré Lefevre, p. 87

He shook his cane over the backs of the straw-bottomed chairs; the sweet, mellow accents of his voice melted into loving protest a protest in which the fervor was not quenched in spite of the merry key in which it was pitched. "Protestants? Pouffe! pouffe! What is that? What is it to be a Protestant? Heretics, heretics, that is what you are. So you are deux affreuses heretiques? Ah, la! la!

As a matter of fact, he was asleep after a heavy meal. Across, seated on a pouffe on the other side of the fire, was a cameo-like girl with neat black hair done tight and bright in the French mode. She had strangely-drawn eyebrows, and her colour was brilliant. She was hot, leaning back behind the shaft of old marble of the mantel-piece, to escape the fire.

"I cannot say exactly; about three four kilometers." "Opportunity" dropped her bag and embraced her. "Oh!" she burst out, volubly. "Think of Zoë Marat finding a countrywoman in this wild land. Moi I can no longer stand it; and when madame's temper goes pouffe I say, it is enough; let madame fast or cook for her guests, as she prefer. I go!"