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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Frantz Frantz!" she said; and they remained there side by side, silent and burning with emotion, soothed by Madame Dobson's romance, which reached their ears by snatches through the shrubbery: "Ton amour, c'est ma folie. Helas! je n'en puis guei-i-i-r." Suddenly Risler's tall figure appeared in the doorway. "This way, Chebe, this way. They are in the summerhouse."
"Pouvez-vous siffler?" his doctor asked him one day, when he was almost at his last gasp; "siffler," as every one knows, has the double meaning of to whistle and to hiss: "Hélas! non," was his whispered answer; "pas même une comédie de M. Scribe!" M. Scribe is, or was, the favorite dramatist of the French Philistine.
'Reste en prison, ecoute le chant d'amour, 'Et le doux son des baisers que la Reine a promit 'A celui qui monte, sans peur et sans retour Au Palais D'Iffry! Helas, mon ami, C'est triste d'ecouter le chanson sans le chanter aussi!"
The curse of modern life is the multiplication of books. Very true, and yet I find that Wedekind is "literary," that he could exclaim with Stephan Mallarmé: "La chair est triste, hélas! et j'ai lu tous les livres." Regarding the modern stage he is also positive.
Madame gobbled up our sandwiches, commending them every now and then to me. But I had been too much excited to have any appetite left, and very tired I was when we reached home. 'So, there is lady coming to-morrow? said Madame, who knew everything. 'Wat is her name? I forget. 'Lady Knollys, I answered. 'Lady Knollys wat odd name! She is very young is she not? 'Past fifty, I think. 'Hélas!
She read me a letter she had written to her nephew to come out and take her home well written and quite coherent. I've not known her mind so clear for months. Her memory, too. She said she had slept so well. If only it would last, helas! 'There are days like that, she added presently, 'days when everything goes right and easily.
She said the words didn't sound the same way as when they taught them to her at school. Helas le miserable! The brogue of her put shame on me own before I came away." The shoulders went up again, and a roguish smile lit up the little face.
"I should write a sonnet to your eyebrows this morning, is it not?" "Mercy, no! That kind of poetry has long been passé." "Helas!" mournfully. It was a beautiful morning, a sharp blue sky and a sea of running silver; warm, too, for they were bearing away into the southern seas now. Every one had sea-legs by this time, and the larder dwindled in a respectable manner.
"Mon cher," said Margaret, "I need not tell you I am enchanted to see you, but what is the meaning of the things you wrote me this morning? Are you really in trouble?" "Hélas, yes. I am in the worst kind of trouble that exists for a Russian. I am in political trouble and that entails everything else." "Tell me all about it," said she. "Perhaps I may help you." "Ah no! you cannot help.
"Yes that of falling in love with the wrong one. Helas, it is but one of those ironical jests wherewith Fate amuses herself at every step of our lives. Had you fallen in love with Yvonne and it passes my understanding why you did not everything would have gone smoothly with your wooing. Unfortunately, you have a preference for fair hair " "Have done," he interrupted peevishly.
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