Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 18, 2025
Ziegler's face and vesture. Then he jammed the violin into its case, and ran out of the room. "Barbare! Imbécile! Sauvage!" he muttered ferociously on the threshold. The enchantment was broken. Everybody rose, and not the least precipitately the streaming Mr.
Many a man is induced to learn to read raised type just to read this magazine. And so Mrs. Ziegler's philanthropy can not be too highly commended, and her name and that of Mr. Holmes are enshrined in the hearts of the blind. Her service to them is incalculable.
"Oh!" said Mrs. Spatt. "This prejudice against the greatest modern masterpieces because they are German is a very sad sign in Paris. I have noticed it for a long time." Audrey, who most irrationally had begun to be annoyed by the blandness of Mr. Ziegler's smile, answered with a rival blandness: "In Paris they do not reproach Strauss because he is German, but because he is vulgar." Mrs.
Ziegler's perfect unconcern as, with the beer glass lifted towards his mouth, he proceeded steadily to work through "The Watch on the Rhine," while Musa lilted out the delicate, gay phrases of Debussy. The enchantment upon the whole room was sinister and painful. Musa got closer to Mr. Ziegler, who did not blench nor cease from his humming.
Probably in all the annals of artistic snobbery, no cultured cosmopolitan had ever been made to suffer a more exquisite moral torture of humiliation than Musa had contrived to inflict upon Mr. and Mrs. Spatt in return for their hospitality. Their sneaped squirmings upon the sofa were terrible to witness. But Mr. Ziegler's sensibility was apparently quite unaffected.
Then suddenly Musa, lowering his fiddle and interrupting the scene, snatched the mute from the bridge of the violin. "I have put it on the wrong instrument," he said thickly, with a very French intonation, and simultaneously he shoved the mute with violence into the mouth of Mr. Ziegler. In doing so, he jerked up Mr. Ziegler's elbow, and the remains of the beer flew up and baptised Mr.
She would have gone straight and rung at Mrs. Ziegler's door, late as it was, for Mrs. Ziegler's habits.... Mrs. Ziegler, the widow of a distinguished professor who was an intimate friend of mine, lets me have three rooms out of her very large and fine apartment, which she didn't give up after her husband's death; but I have my own entrance opening on the same landing.
Here, for instance, is Chevalier Ziegler's picture of "St. Luke painting the Virgin." St. Luke has a monk's dress on, embroidered, however, smartly round the sleeves. The Virgin sits in an immense yellow-ochre halo, with her son in her arms. She looks preternaturally solemn; as does St. Luke, who is eying his paint-brush with an intense ominous mystical look. They call this Catholic art.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking