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Updated: May 23, 2025
One even put his arm over his eyes as a child does. I wondered vaguely why they were crying; it never dawned on me it had anything to do with me. "Complètement coupée," I heard one say, and quick as a shot, I asked, "Où est-ce que c'est qu'est coupé?" and those tactful souls, just rough soldiers, replied without hesitation, "La jaquette, Mademoiselle."
A. "Because man is not strong enough to keep them." And another. Q. "Pourquoi l'homme ne lit pas l'Evangile?" R. "Parce que l'esprit de l'homme est trop borne et trop faible pour comprendre qu'est ce que Dieu a ecrit." Q. "Why are men not to read the New Testament?" A. "Because the mind of man is too limited and weak to understand what God has written."
It was years before I could rid myself of the habit of inquiring quezaco? instead of "qu'est ce que c'est?" and of substituting for "Comment cela va-t-il?" the Provencal Commoun as? I found, too, that it was unusual elsewhere to address people in our Nyons fashion as "Te, mon bon!"
"Eh, bien, mon ami, qu'est ce que tu fais ici?" said a gay voice behind a clump of box; and immediately there started out, like a French picture from its frame, a dark-eyed figure, dressed like a Marquise of Louis XIV.'s time, with powdered hair, sparkling with diamonds.
"Bon Dieu!" exclaimed mademoiselle, turning round: "Miladi told me you was gone out mais qu'est ce que c'est? vous voila pale you are as white blanc comme mon linge," cried she, with emphasis, at the same time touching a handkerchief, which was so far from white, that her pupil could not help bursting out into a laugh at the unfortunate illustration.
'Qu'est ce qu'il dit? demanded his companion. 'Il dit que le jument est bien beau. 'Allons, mon ami, il est tard, said the beauty, with a scornful toss of her head; 'allons! 'Encore un moment, said Francis Ardry; 'and when shall I see you again? 'I scarcely know, I replied: 'I never saw a more splendid turn out. 'Qu'est ce qu'il dit? I said the lady again.
Even now Quebec was full of pilgrim poor begging against the hard winter, and execrating their spoilers. Doltaire was too fond of digging at the heart of things not to admit she spoke truth. "La Pompadour et La Friponne! Qu'est que cela, mon petit homme?" "Les deux terribles, ma chere mignonne, Mais, c'est cela La Pompadour et La Friponne!"
In no very pleasant mood I walked across the cabin, without even looking at the persons assembled there, and leaned out of the open window. I had been some three or four minutes in this position, chewing the cud of unpleasant reflections, when a friendly voice spoke close to my ear "Qu'est ce qu'il y a donc, Monsieur Howard? Etes-vous indisposé? Allons voir du monde." I turned round.
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