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Updated: May 26, 2025
We could see him for some time until the growing darkness concealed all but his outline, but we heard his mournful "tuituit," shriller and shriller as the night grew darker. As for me, I stepped along quickly and happily in the soft twilight, with this little unknown woman leaning on my arm. I tried to say pretty things to her, but could think of nothing. I remained silent, disturbed, enchanted.
"Yes, my dear," he replied gently. "Where shall I find you?" A restaurant had been recommended to me. I gave him the address. He turned back and, stooping down as he searched the ground with anxious eyes, he moved away, screaming "tuituit" every few moments.
They were glovers in the Rue, Saint-Lazare. Her husband walked beside her, casting wild glances into the thick wood and screaming "tuituit" every few moments. At last I inquired: "Why do you scream like that?" "I have lost my poor dog," he replied in a tone of discouragement and despair. "How is that you have lost your dog?" "Yes. He was just a year old. He had never been outside the shop.
And he cast mournful glances into the thicket as though he sought to sound its peaceful and mysterious depths, in order to flee thither, to escape and hide from all eyes, and from time to time he uttered a fresh scream, a prolonged and shrill "tuituit." I took this to be a nervous affection.
We could see him for some time until the growing darkness concealed all but his outline, but we heard his mournful "tuituit," shriller and shriller as the night grew darker. As for me, I stepped along quickly and happily in the soft twilight, with this little unknown woman leaning on my arm. I tried to say pretty things to her, but could think of nothing. I remained silent, disturbed, enchanted.
"Yes, my dear," he replied gently. "Where shall I find you?" A restaurant had been recommended to me. I gave him the address. He turned back and, stooping down as he searched the ground with anxious eyes, he moved away, screaming "tuituit" every few moments.
She had not finished speaking when her husband, as if he had suddenly gone crazy, gave a piercing scream, a long, wild cry that could not be described in any language, but which sounded like 'tuituit'. The young woman did not appear to be surprised or moved and resumed: "No, really, some people are so stupid and they pretend they know everything.
And he cast mournful glances into the thicket as though he sought to sound its peaceful and mysterious depths, in order to flee thither, to escape and hide from all eyes, and from time to time he uttered a fresh scream, a prolonged and shrill "tuituit." I took this to be a nervous affection.
They were glovers in the Rue, Saint-Lazare. Her husband walked beside her, casting wild glances into the thick wood and screaming "tuituit" every few moments. At last I inquired: "Why do you scream like that?" "I have lost my poor dog," he replied in a tone of discouragement and despair. "How is that you have lost your dog?" "Yes. He was just a year old. He had never been outside the shop.
She had not finished speaking when her husband, as if he had suddenly gone crazy, gave a piercing scream, a long, wild cry that could not be described in any language, but which sounded like 'tuituit'. The young woman did not appear to be surprised or moved and resumed: "No, really, some people are so stupid and they pretend they know everything.
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