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Even young men of fashion she had seen some of them on Tuesdays Raoul Wermant, the one who so distinguished himself as a leader in the 'german', or Yvonne's brother, the officer of chasseurs, who had gained the prize for horsemanship, and others besides these seemed to her very commonplace by comparison. No! he whom she loved was a man in the prime of life, well known to fame.
He already had the seemliest wife in the village. Yvonne's milk pails and her brass kettles were bright ouf! they blinded you in the sun when you passed that way. But you must keep your eyes upon her yard, for her flower beds were so neat and gay they restored to you your sight. And you might hear her sing, aye, as far as the double chestnut tree above Père Gruneau's blacksmith forge.
At last the deep broken note of the bell in the church spire struck once. It must be half past ten. He started walking slowly towards the street where Yvonne's grocery shop was. The faint glow of the moon lit up the grey houses with the shuttered windows and tumultuous red roofs full of little dormers and skylights. Fuselli felt deliciously at ease with the world.
My picture will show her that I am improved by such little changes, and perhaps it will induce hor to let me go to the Bal Blanc that Madame d'Etaples is going to give on Yvonne's birthday. Mamma declined for me, saying I was not fit to wear a low-necked corsage, but you see she was mistaken." "Rather," said Marien, smiling in spite of himself.
"They say the girl at the Three Wolves gets ten," added the child with awe, "but thou knowest how she must do the washing besides." Marianne's square jaw shut hard. She glanced at Yvonne's patched skirt, the one that had been the Mère Bourron's winter petticoat, feeling its quality as critically as a fashionable dressmaker.
Yvonne's temples and throat were crimson. "Please open the window," she cried, "it's so warm here." "Helene, I think you are blushing," said he, mischievously. She turned her head away from him. He rose and opened the window, leaning out a moment; his heart was beating violently. Presently he returned. "It's one o'clock." No answer. "Helene, it's one o'clock in the morning."
Lawrence had given her his confidence, and she valued it, for with all her ignorance of society she had seen too much of plain human nature to suppose that he was often taken off his guard as he had been by her: and was she going to expose him to Yvonne's lacerating raillery? A thousand times no!
Yvonne's greeting of her brother appeared to have quenched the spark of spirit that for a moment had glimmered in the little man's breast. "Monsieur," cried Eugene, "believe me that what I have to say is of the utmost consequence, and say it I will whether before these strangers or in your private ear shall be as you elect." The old man glanced about him like one who seeks a way of escape.
In the morning Jack Bendish had appeared on horseback and Lawrence had ridden over with him to lunch at Wharton, a sufficiently amusing experience, what with the crabbed high-spirited whims of Jack's grandfather and the old-fashioned courtesy of Lord Grantchester, and Yvonne's romantic toilette: later Laura had joined them and they had played bowls on the famous green: in the cool of the evening he had strolled home with Laura through the fields.
My picture will show her that I am improved by such little changes, and perhaps it will induce hor to let me go to the Bal Blanc that Madame d'Etaples is going to give on Yvonne's birthday. Mamma declined for me, saying I was not fit to wear a low-necked corsage, but you see she was mistaken." "Rather," said Marien, smiling in spite of himself.
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