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Updated: June 12, 2025
They had not changed the name of the brew: it is not only in religious evolutions that old names are a comfort. They walked to the hairdresser's in silence. The triumphal procession had become almost a dead march. Only once was the silence broken. "I suppose they have invited you down for the wedding?" said Madame Dépine. "Yes," said Madame Valière. They walked on.
The baron de la Valiere assured him that he should think no more of it; and tho' at first he had taken it a little amiss, yet when he came to reflect on the circumstance, he could not but confess he should have behaved in the same manner himself.
On the average each speculated a full franc a week, with scarcely a gleam of encouragement. Two francs a week each already the year becomes six months! For six months one can hold out. Hardships shared are halved, too. It will seem scarce three months. Ah, how good are the blessed saints! But over the morning coffee Madame Valière objected that they might win the whole hundred francs in a week!
For at this moment Madame Valière appeared on the pavement outside bearing a long French roll and a bag of figs, which made an excellent lunch at low water. Madame la Propriétaire, dominatingly bestriding her doorstep, was sandwiched between the two old ladies, her wig aggressively grey between the two browns. Madame Valière halted awkwardly, a bronze blush mounting to match her wig.
"But you said one is not the dome of the Invalides," Madame Valière reminded him. "He spoke of our old blocks," Madame Dépine intervened hastily. "At our age one changes no more." Thus persuaded, the "Princess" in her turn denuded herself of her wealth of wig, and Madame Dépine watched with unsmiling satisfaction the stretchings of tape across the ungainly cranium. "C'est bien," she said.
"It is an idea," replied Madame Valière. And then each stared involuntarily at the other's head. They had shared so many things that this new possibility sounded like a discovery. But the light died out of their eyes, as Madame Dépine recognised that the "Princess's" skull was hopelessly long, and Madame Valière recognised that Madame Dépine's cranium was hopelessly round.
Madame Valière lost the clue to her movements, felt her suddenly as a stranger. But finally Madame Dépine drew herself together and led the way into the coiffeurs. The proprietor, who had reëntered his parlour, reëmerged gloomily. Madame Valière took the word. "We are thinking of ordering a wig." "Cash in advance, of course," said the coiffeur. "Comment!" cried Madame Valière, indignantly.
His Lordship has since been so obliging as to send me a note of this, for the communication of which I am sure my readers will thank me. 'The lines in the tenth Satire of Juvenal, according to my alteration, should have run thus: 'Yet Shore could tell ; And Valiere curs'd .
He was very much surprized that the baron de Palfoy had not wrote, because as he had in a manner promised to correspond with him by desiring him to write, he had a right to expect that favour when they came to Alranstadt; for till then it was scarce possible, by reason of the army's continual and uncertain motions; but he was much more so, that the baron de la Valiere had not been so good as to give him some information of an affair, of which he could not be insensible his peace so much depended: that he did not do it, he therefore presently concluded, was owing to the having nothing pleasing to acquaint him with.
She stooped and saw a shining glory a five-franc piece! "What is it?" said Madame Valière. "Nothing," said Madame Dépine, covering the coin with her foot. "My bootlace." And she bent down to pick up the coin, to fumble at her bootlace, and to cover her furious blush.
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