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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Mille tonnerres!" cried Ardan, "I should be there like Ulysses among the Cyclops! I'll tell you what it is, Barbican; if we ever decide on going to the Sun, we must provide ourselves before hand with a few of your Rodman's Columbiads to frighten off the Solarians!"
"Mille tonnerres! he has escaped me!" he cried aloud, and the words did not seem of his own choosing. WHO had escaped? Someone man or woman; rather some THING, which, yellow handed, had sought to murder him! Max ran across to the second trap and looked down at the woman whom he knew, beyond doubt, to be Mrs. Leroux. She lay in her death-like trance, unmoved.
One must understand a thing to be able to enjoy it; and I'll be sworn Mam'selle Josephine was infinitely more bored last night than yourself." Our conversation, or rather his monologue, was here interrupted by the ringing of the outer bell. The artist sat up, took his pipe from his lips, and looked considerably disturbed. "Mille tonnerres!" said he in a low tone.
He took out the warrant and held it at a safe distance before Lucas's eyes. A great light broke in on that personage. "Mille tonnerres! I am not the Comte de Mar!" "Oh, you say that now, do you? Pity you had not thought of it sooner." "But I am not the Comte de Mar! I am Paul de Lorraine, nephew to my Lord Mayenne." "Why don't you say straight out that you're the Duc de Guise?"
I accepted the old soldier's offered pinch of snuff; clapped him on the back, and swore he was the honestest fellow in the world the most glorious relic of the Grand Army that I had ever met with. "Go on!" cried my military friend, snapping his fingers in ecstasy "Go on, and win! Break the bank Mille tonnerres! my gallant English comrade, break the bank!"
"I had no time to say anything before they hustled me off," Lucas exclaimed. "Mille tonnerres! Never had any man such luck as I. It's enough to make me sign papers with the devil." "Mar would believe I had broken faith with him?" "I dare say. One isn't responsible for what Mar believes," Lucas answered carelessly. Mayenne was silent, with knit brows, drumming his hand on the table.
The day was fixed for our wedding, it approached; on the evening before the appointed day, Clara, her mother, her little sister, and myself were walking by the port, and as we looked on the sea I was telling them old gossip tales of mermaids and sea-serpents, when a red-faced bottle- nosed Frenchman clapped himself right before me, and placing his spectacles very deliberately astride his proboscis, echoed out, 'Sacre, mille tonnerres!
Milles tonnerres! let nobody in future dare to say in my presence that my dear uncle is not the finest cavalier on the continent! I should have been inconsolable if I had not made your acquaintance. Capital! I was looking for a dead uncle, and I have found a living one. C'est bien charmant! The Goddess of Fortune is not a woman for nothing. I protest that she has quite befooled me!"
The Montmorencies, Noailles, La Rochefoucaulds, Clermont Tonnerres, Lally Tollendals, Virieux, d'Aiguillons, Lauzans, Montesquieus, Lameths, Mirabeaus, the Duc d'Orleans, first prince of the blood, the Count de Provence, brother of the king, king himself afterwards as Louis XVIII., had given an impulse to the boldest innovations.
The lawyer went straight to the desk, and John followed him. "My mother kept most of her important papers in this despatch-case, I believe," he said. Poirot drew out the small bunch of keys. "Permit me. I locked it, out of precaution, this morning." "But it's not locked now." "Impossible!" "See." And John lifted the lid as he spoke. "Milles tonnerres!" cried Poirot, dumfounded.
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