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These details I noted within a space of a few seconds. At first my bow and the fact that I had my hat in my hand barely caught their attention. The Baron only scowled a little, and the Baroness swept straight on. "Madame la Baronne," said I, loudly and distinctly embroidering each word, as it were "j'ai l'honneur d'etre votre esclave."
"Que votre volonté soit faite," stammered the Provençal. And the Irishwoman and Basque woman cried, "Deuntar do thoil ar an Hhal
"But I am hostess, sir. I do the honors. Pray do you your duty." "To our better acquaintance, then, madam," I accepted. "In Benton." The cognac swept down my throat like a stab of hot oil. She poured for herself. "A vôtre santé, monsieur and continued beginnings, no ends." She daintily tossed it off. We had consummated our pledges just in time.
"Indeed I don't remember anything about it," he said; "why, my poor child, I should never have thought of such a thing. Well, never mind, Madelon, you shall come to England with us. Do you know you are a sort of cousin of mine?" "Am I?" she answered, "did you know mamma as well as Mrs. as Madame votre Tante?"
CHÈRE MADAME Comme j'étais très bon camarade avec votre frère Paul Duval et que le malheur vient de lui arriver, je tient
From time to time he is moved to speak in bad French, and then, for some reason or other, he thinks it necessary to address me as "Votre Excellence." And I am glum. Evidently I am a constraint to them and they are a constraint to me. I have never in my earlier days had a close knowledge of class antagonism, but now I am tormented by something of that sort.
On the other side was a postscript: "Maman vous fait dire que votre couvert vous attendra jusqu'
Je m'empresse de vous remercier de votre lettre, et de vous dire que je vous enverrai jeudi, a Dieppe, une voiture pour vous chercher a l'Hotel de la Plage a deux heures apres midi, a moins d'avis contraire.
The Duke and his mother, as well as Lasse, the friend of the latter, have gained several millions. The Prince has gained less, and yet his winnings, they say, amount to millions. The two cousins do not stir from the Rue de Quincampoix, which has given rise to the following epigram: Prince dites nous vos exploits Que faites vous pour votre gloire? Taisez-vous sots!
At that time especially, when Italy was visited only by people of a certain social standing, society was carried on by a most complicated system of letters of introduction, and everyone of any note brought a letter to Mme. d'Albany. "La grande lanterne magique passe tout par votre salon," wrote Sismondi to the Countess; and the metaphor could not be truer.
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