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Updated: May 3, 2025
Mon ami. We don't observe the Sunday. Voila le vrai phylloxera."
He had not had much to do with people who smiled honestly. "Vrai!" he said, with grave emphasis; "I am not joking. It is a matter of the strictest fact that fiction has for the moment fixed its fancy upon my country just as it has upon the East End of your London. Mon Dieu! what a lot of harm fiction with a purpose can do!" "But we do not take our facts from fiction in England," said Maggie.
She enjoyed his perplexity a minute; then she returned to the charge. 'Well, my credo is very short. Its first article is art and its second is art and its third is art! Her words excited her. The delicate colour flushed into her cheek. She flung her head back and looked straight before her with half-shut eyes. 'Yes I believe in art and expression and colour and le vrai.
Jimbo knew what he was about. And he took for granted that his employer would never leave Bourcelles again. 'Thursday and Saturday would be the best days, he added. They were his half- holidays, but he did not say so. Secretaries, he knew, did not have half-holidays comme ca. 'Je suis son vrai secretaire, he had told Mademoiselle Lemaire, who had confirmed it with a grave mais oui.
"Bryan," said he, seating himself on the edge of the forge and filling his pipe, while Vulcan's votary scattered a shower of gems from a white-hot bar of iron at every blow of his hammer "Bryan, you no fit for not'ing. Dat axe is blont encore. Oui, c'est vrai. Now dat is tres mal. How you not can temper him edge better?"
Ah! vrai! Est-ce insupportable, tout de même, qu'il existe des types comme ça? Je vous jure que "
"Now," said I, "if I retail this information with a serious air, I will lay a wager that I find plenty of believers; for falsehood, uttered solemnly, is much more like probability than truth uttered doubtingly: else how do the priests of Brama and Mahomet live?" "Ah! now you grow too profound, Mr. Pelham!" "C'est vrai but "
Again to quote the vivid language of the Baron Max: "The stammering, stuttering, shrieking rage of the hideously corpulent king, who, on account of his unwieldy obesity, was unable to let his arms hang by his side, and who thus gesticulated wildly, and perspired incessantly, and had the habit, moreover, of continually addressing his favourite, generally present on these occasions, with the appeal, 'Pas vrai, Dillen? after each broken sentence, would have been inexpressibly droll, had not the low-comedy actor of the scene been an autocrat who might, at a wink, have transformed laughter into tears.
He was gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles 'en vrai chevalier français' before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official.
"Oui, monsieur," replied Massan, as he turned on his heel and walked away. "Parbleu! we shall indeed start to morrow, an it please you, if all the ice and wind in the polar regions was blowed down the coast and crammed into the river's mouth. C'est vrai!" Stanley's forebodings and Massan's prognostications proved partly incorrect on the following morning.
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