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Then the gentleman made such an arrangement with the landlord of the Soleil Royal, that he had the whole of the house, and occupied, without any of the usual servants of the place remaining there. For greater security, my lord sent the said master and his people into the country, and put his own in their places, so that the advocate should know nothing of this arrangement.

Behold now the Sieur Avenelles, on his arrival, bundled about, he, his wife and the duenna from inn to inn, and thinking themselves very fortunate in being received at the Soleil Royal, where the gallant was getting warm, and love was burning.

Suppose you were to see him, madame; it is not two steps away, in the Passage du Soleil." So the lady and the stove-fitter went out. "This way, madame," said the man, turning down the Rue de la Pepiniere. The alley runs, in fact, from the bottom of this street through to the Rue du Rocher.

It will be guessed that this third inhabitant of the sixth floor attic was no other than Jean Didier, whose name had been entered in the bureau of police when they tried to get some imperfect statistics of missing men as "Jean Didier, glazier; fought with the insurgents, wounded at the barricade of the Rue Soleil d'Or, May 28th, 1871; denounced as Communist by André Fort; executed on the spot."

His works, two of which are known to us, 'Pomone' and 'Les Peines et les Plaisirs de l'Amour, were to a certain extent a development of the masques which had been popular in Paris for many years. They are pastoral and allegorical in subject, and are often merely a vehicle for fulsome adulation of the 'Roi Soleil. But in construction they are operas pure and simple.

For a second he was tempted to confide in her; to tell her of the position in which he found himself and to lighten his load by sharing it with her. But this he dared not do. Cynthia must never know. In a room of the first floor of the Auberge du Soleil, at Calais, the host inquired of Crispin if he were milord Galliard.

"I hereby christen her Clarte du Soleil." "Which means?" asked Harry, whose French came only in spots. "Sunshine," I told him. "Presumably after the glorious King of the Incas, who calls himself the Child of the Sun. But it's a good name. May Heaven grant that it takes us there!"

Immediately his gesture was repeated from the top to the bottom of the park, and from the choral societies, from the brass bands, from the tambourines, there burst forth the majestic strains of the popular southern song, Grand Soleil de la Provence.

The Soleil Royal and the Britannia thus lay for an hour and a quarter about three-quarter's musket-shot of each other, the English plying their guns so warmly, that the Frenchman was in that time dreadfully cut up in his rigging, sails, and yards; it being evident, also, that he had lost a great many men, for no effort was being made to repair damages.

A French writer's words seem to meet its description better than my own: "Non pas rouges Mais blonde avec des reflets dorés, on delicatement se jouait la lumière du soleil." In distinction to the lady named before, the present one was short, of fairly full figure, and not above the average grace. You might even say that the large head was carried a little too far forward for elegance.