Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 24, 2025
Walter . . ." he managed to smile, but didn't correct himself . . . "has gone in a trading schooner on a short tour of the islands, to the westward." This communication was received in profound silence. Renouard forgot himself in the thought: "It's done!" But the sight of the string of boys marching up to the house with suit- cases and dressing-bags rescued him from that appalling abstraction.
In his Epictetus there is the following note: 'Bought in May 1785, the first book printed on vellum that entered my library; rather luxurious for a young fellow of seventeen, but then all my little savings were devoted to acquiring books; parties of pleasure, and elegancies of toilette, everything was sacrificed to my beloved books; and at that time a brisk and brilliant business permitted expenses which were followed by hard years of privation; it was in my first youth that I found it easiest to spend money on my books. Renouard began life as a manufacturer.
Renouard thought that the love of such a woman was enough to pull any broken man together to drag a man out of his grave. And he thought this with inward despair, which kept him silent as much almost as his astonishment. At last he managed to stammer out a generous "Oh! Don't let us even suppose. . ." The professor struck in with a sadder accent than before "It's good to be young.
And then there were the lectures he had arranged to deliver in Paris. A serious matter. That lectures by Professor Moorsom were a European event and that brilliant audiences would gather to hear them Renouard did not know. All he was aware of was the shock of this hint of departure. The menace of separation fell on his head like a thunderbolt.
He sat down by the cabin table, and taking his head between his hands, did not stir for a very long time. Very quiet, he set himself to review this dream. The lamp, of course, he connected with the search for a man. But on closer examination he perceived that the reflection of himself in the mirror was not really the true Renouard, but somebody else whose face he could not remember.
The days which followed were not exactly such as Renouard had feared yet they were not better than his fears. They were accursed in all the moods they brought him. But the general aspect of things was quiet.
The crop promised to be magnificent, and the fashionable philosopher of the age took other than a merely scientific interest in the experiment. His investments were judicious, but he had always some little money lying by, for experiments. After lunch, being left alone with Renouard, he talked a little of cultivation and such matters.
The word would have gone forth, and a good deal beyond the mere marks of servitude would have been doubtless destroyed, had not the emergency called forth the courage and energies of Renouard and Didot. There are probably false impressions abroad as to the susceptibility of literature to destruction by fire.
But I shall see them to-morrow morning, at the landing place. Take your orders from the professor as to the sailing of the schooner. Go now." Luiz, dumbfounded, retreated into the darkness. Renouard did not move, but hours afterwards, like the bitter fruit of his immobility, the words: "I had nothing to offer to her vanity," came from his lips in the silence of the island.
All ecstasy, all expression went out of his face. "Mr. Renouard," she said, "though you can have no claim on my consideration after having decoyed me here for the vile purpose, apparently, of gloating over me as your possible prey, I will tell you that I am not perhaps the extraordinary being you think I am. You may believe me. Here I stand for truth itself."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking