Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 27, 2025
Miette felt frightened, and, seeking for Silvere's hand, clasped it in her own. After the feverish enthusiasm which for several hours had carried them along with the others, this sudden halt and the solitude in which they found themselves side by side left them exhausted and bewildered as though they had suddenly awakened from a strange dream.
And for a moment, as by the glow of a lightning flash, he thought he could espy the future of the Rougon-Macquart family, a pack of unbridled, insatiate appetites amidst a blaze of gold and blood. Aunt Dide, however, had ceased her wailing chant at the mention of Silvere's name. For a moment she listened anxiously. Then she broke out into terrible shrieks.
"I'm much obliged to you, sir," Rengade replied; "but, you know, what would do me more good than any quantity of doctor's stuff would be to wring the neck of the villain who put my eye out. Oh! I shall know him again; he's a little thin, palish fellow, quite young." Thereupon Pierre bethought himself of the blood he had seen on Silvere's hand.
Silvere made no reply, but, half-stifling, and fearing lest he should give way to tears like herself, he kissed her in brotherly fashion on the cheek, at a loss for any other consolation. Then disengaging themselves they again lapsed into silence. After a moment Miette shuddered. Now that she no longer leant against Silvere's shoulder she was becoming icy cold.
Most frequently such scraps of knowledge convey an absolutely false idea of the highest truths, and render persons of limited intellect insufferably stupid. In Silvere's case, however, his scraps of stolen knowledge only augmented his liberal aspirations. He was conscious of horizons which at present remained closed to him.
Their bent knees almost reached the opening, and though they thrust themselves back as far as possible, the spray of the rain bathed their cheeks and hands. The big drops, falling from the planks, splashed at regular intervals at their feet. The brown pelisse kept them warm, and the nook was so small that Miette was compelled to sit almost on Silvere's knees.
Blood flowed, and, some of it splashing Silvere's hands, quickly brought him to his senses. He looked at his hands, dropped the carbine, and ran out, in a state of frenzy, shaking his fingers. "You are wounded!" cried Miette. "No, no," he replied in a stifled voice, "I've just killed a gendarme." "Is he really dead?" asked Miette.
The money he had in his pocket, the treachery he was preparing, the conviction that he had sold himself at a good price all filled him with the self-satisfaction characteristic of vicious people who naturally became merry and scornful amidst their evil practices. Of all his talk, however, aunt Dide only heard Silvere's name. "Have you seen him?" she asked, opening her lips at last. "Who? Silvere?"
It was she, now, who pressed her lips to Silvere's, who sought with mute ardour for the delight whose stinging smart she had not at first been able to endure. The thought of approaching death had excited her; she no longer felt herself blushing, but hung upon her love, while he in faltering voice repeated: "I love you! I love you!" But at this Miette shook her head, as if to say it was not true.
When he at times entertained a vague idea that aunt Dide might be expiating some former transgressions, he would say to himself: "I was born to pardon her." A nature such as Silvere's, ardent yet self-restrained, naturally cherished the most exalted republican ideas.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking