"Vous avez passé ce diantre de Rhone," says Madame de Sevigné, "si fier, si orgueilleux, si turbulent; il faut le marier avec la Durance quand elle est en furie; ah le bon ménage!"
Another time he interrupted, saying: "And will she soon be confined?" and shaking his head reproachfully said: "That's bad! Go on, go on." The third interruption came when Prince Andrew was finishing his description. The old man began to sing, in the cracked voice of old age: "Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre. Dieu sait quand reviendra." *
The Greek notion of felicity, on the other hand, is perfectly conveyed in these words of a great French moralist: "C'est le bonheur des hommes" when? when they abhor that which is evil? no; when they exercise themselves in the law of the Lord day and night? no; when they die daily? no; when they walk about the New Jerusalem with palms in their hands? no; but when they think aright, when their thought hits, "quand ils pensent juste."
"She took it as a Frenchwoman should. She snatched the baby from its cradle, and held it a moment close to her face. Then she lifted it above her head in both hands, and said, almost without a choke in her throat, 'Vive la France, quand même! and dropped. I put them on the bed together, she and the boy. She was crying like a good one when I left her. She's all right."
It was sometimes observed of her, that in her conversation, elle s'écoutait quand elle parlait she seemed to be listening to her own voice while she spoke. It must be allowed that we are not always free from an impression of self-listening, even in the most caressing of the letters before us. This is not much better, however, than trifling.
He sang but now more violently, and as though with a worthy protest: Le lièvre et le lapin, Quand c'est bien cuit, ça fait du bien. That is: "Hare and rabbit, properly cooked, do one great good," and then added after the necessary pause and with a gesture half of offering and half of disdain: "But who can call them well cooked if the tinning of the pot has been neglected?"
It was a sumptuous car, upholstered in green corded silk, with nickel fittings, and displaying on its panels the motto Quand même, and the monogram of a famous actress. It had been requisitioned. The air was cold there had been frost overnight but the sun was brilliant.
"Yes," she answered with her gay nod. "I will remember." "Then good-bye, mademoiselle." "Madame," she corrected lightly. "Madame, my cousin," he said, and departed smiling. Desiree went slowly upstairs again. Quand on se mefie on se trompe, quand on ne se mefie pas, on est trompe. Charles Darragon had come to Dantzig a year earlier.
At every noise I peered out, hoping for the doctor. But he did not come. And then, as I fell back into the fauteuil, there was borne on my consciousness a sound I had heard before. It was the music of the fiddler, it was a tune I knew, and the voices of the children were singing the refrain: "Ne sait quand reviendra, Ne sait quand reviendra."