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Updated: May 4, 2025
Scipion beamed: "Ah, you've foun' me that at the lazt, and just when I'm wanting it furiouzly." "Mr. Beloiseau," said Chester, "has a beautiful commission from the new Pan-American Steamship Company." "Thanks to Mr. Chezter," said Beloiseau, "who got me the job. Hence for this book spot cash." He turned aside to a locked closet and drawer.
At eight o'clock A.M. they were still going on, the mob seeming to be animated by the spirit of Trestaillons, for while the soldiers were occupied in a distant quarter of the town a score of men broke into the house of a certain Scipion Chabrier, who had remained hidden from his enemies for a long time, but who had lately returned home on the strength of the proclamations published by General Lagarde when he assumed the position of commandant of the town.
Nevertheless, the stragglers in the rear of the French continued to hug the wind, with a pertinacity that denoted a resolution to have a brush with their enemies in passing. The vessels were le Scipion and la Victoire, each of seventy-four guns.
"And that undergroun' railway!" said Scipion. "Yes," Mme. Alexandre agreed, "but that story remain' unfinizh' whiles that uncle of Mr. Chezter couldn' return at his home." "Not even his State," ventured mademoiselle. "But he did," Chester said; "he came back." M. Dubroca spoke up: "Oh, 'tis easy to insert that, at the en' foot-note."
All other outcries ceased half-uttered when the Chapdelaine sisters clapped hands for joy, crying: "Agcepted! Agcepted! Ah, Aline! by that kindnezz and sag-acitie of Mr. Chezter and all the rez' of our Royal Street frien' you are biccome the diz-ting-uish' and lucrative authorezz, Mlle. Chapdelaine!" M. De l'Isle's wrath was too hot for his tongue, but Scipion stood waiting to speak, and Mme.
"M. Beloiseau?" the chair hostess said; and Scipion, with languor in his voice but a burning fervor in his eye, responded: "I think Mr. Chezter he's speaking with a too great modestie or else dip-lomacie. Tha'z not good! If fid-elitie to art inspire me a conceitednezz as high" his upthrown hand quivered at arm's length "as the flagpole of Hotel St.
He noted also the unimpaired excellence of her erect and girlish slightness and, under her pretty hat and early whitened hair, the carven fineness of her features. Her whole attire pleasantly befitted her years, which might have been anything short of fifty; and yet, if Scipion was right, she might have dressed for thirty. "Are you Mr. Beloiseau?" she inquired. "I am," he said. "Mr.
Chester and her guide hardly spoke until Scipion asked: "Madame, when you was noticing yo' telegram on the desk of yo' son you di'n' maybe notiz' a letter from New York? We are prettie anxiouz for that to come to yo' son. I do' know if you know about that or no, but M. De l'Isle and madame, and Castanado and his madame, and Dubroca and his madame, and Mme.
"Ah ah, yes; 'Two aviateur' riceiving from General Joffre' my God! De l'Isle my God! madame," Scipion pounded his breast with the paper "they are yo' son and mine!" The company rushed to his elbows. "My faith! Castanado, there are their name'! and 'For destrugtion of their eighteenth enemy aeroplane, under circumstance' calling for exceptional coolnezz and intrepid-ity!"
He would have the coach drawn up to the house before sunrise and would keep it as long as I liked." He asked me in, but I went on to the little railway town, repeated my tarradiddle at its "hotel," and soon was asleep. Castanado, "tha'z may be a species of paternoster, I suppose, eh?" "No," said Scipion, "I think tha'z juz' a fashion of speech that he took a drink. I do that myself, going to bed."
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