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Updated: June 22, 2025
The father pulled out the copper tube, adjusted it to his eye, sought the speck, and then, delighted to have seen it, exclaimed: "Yes, yes, there she is. I know her two funnels. Would you like to look, Mme. Rosemilly?"
She pulled herself up, went to her son and offered him first one and then another cheek of white wax which he kissed without saying a word. Then he shook hands with Mme. Rosemilly and his brother, asking: "And when is the wedding to be?" "I do not know yet exactly. We will make it fit in with one of your return voyages."
When they came alongside of the quay, Papagris, who was waiting there, gave his hand to the ladies to help them out, and they took the way into the town. A large crowd, the crowd which haunts the pier every day at high tide was also drifting homeward. Mme. Roland and Mme. Rosemilly led the way, followed by the three men.
Rosemilly in the dark with his father and brother; then he cried: "Come in!" opening the double door to its full width. The glass gallery, lighted by a chandelier and little coloured lamps hidden among palms, india-rubber plants, and flowers, was first seen like a scene on the stage. There was a spasm of surprise.
"Tschah!" exclaimed old Roland suddenly, after he had remained motionless for a quarter of an hour, his eyes fixed on the water, while now and again he very slightly lifted his line sunk in the sea. Mme. Roland, dozing in the stern by the side of Mme. Rosemilly, who had been invited to join the fishing-party, woke up, and turning her head to look at her husband, said: "Well, well! Gerome."
And then one of those involuntary flashes which were common with him, so sudden and swift that he could neither anticipate them, nor stop them, nor qualify them, communicated, as it seemed to him, from some second, independent, and violent soul, shot through his brain. "Bah! He is too great a simpleton; he will marry that little Rosemilly." He was standing up now.
Jean, who was laughing, spoke in his turn: "It is I," said he, "who ought to thank my friends here, my excellent friends," and he glanced at Mme. Rosemilly, "who have given me such a touching evidence of their affection. But it is not by words that I can prove my gratitude. I will prove it to-morrow, every hour of my life, always, for our friendship is not one of those which fade away."
Rosemilly, though her intelligence was limited, had certainly a woman's instinct, scent, and subtle intuitions. And this notion had never entered her head, since she had, with perfect simplicity, drunk to the blessed memory of the deceased Marechal. She was not the woman to have done this if she had had the faintest suspicion.
And their mother, somewhat vexed, said: "Why, Pierre, what rhyme or reason is there in getting into such a state. You are not a child." And he shrugged his shoulders and set to once more. Mme. Rosemilly pretended not to see, not to understand, not to hear.
They soon came to a deeper rift, in which long slender weeds, fantastically tinted, like floating green and rose-coloured hair, were swaying under the quivering water as it trickled off to the distant sea through some invisible crevice. Mme. Rosemilly cried out: "Look, look, I see one, a big one. A very big one, just there!"
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