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"To make a long story short, Beccarelli met with a very miserable end. He was prosecuted for sacrilege and sentenced, in 1708, to row in the galleys for seven years." "These frightful stories seem to have taken away your appetite," said Mme. Carhaix. "Come, Monsieur des Hermies, a little more salad?" "No, thanks.
Carhaix as she came in, bearing a platter on which was a piece of beef smothered in vegetables. "Oh, Madame," protested Des Hermies. They burst out laughing and Carhaix cut up the meat, while his wife poured the cider and Durtal uncorked the bottle of anchovies.
That is the order which produces jewelled dudes like Monsabre and Didon. Enough said." "They are the hussars of religion, the jaunty lancers, the spick and span and primped-up Zouaves, while the good Capuchins are the humble poilus of the soul," said Durtal. "If only they loved bells," sighed Carhaix, shaking his head.
A basket funnelled fireplace, twigs of juniper snapping in it, in a ground-floor room opening on to a great harbour. It seems to me there is a sort of salt water halo around these little rings of gold and rusted iron. Exquisite," he said as he tasted the salad. "We'll make it again for you, Monsieur Durtal," said Mme. Carhaix, "you are not hard to please."
I came here under a misapprehension, I find, and I wish you a good journey." He knew, as he backed out, that he was cutting a poor figure. And he would fain have made a more dignified retreat. But before these men, fugitives and outlaws as they were, he felt, though he was Mayor of Carhaix, almost as small a man as did Michel Tellier.
"Right down in Brittany: at the Manoir d'Elseven, five miles from Carhaix." Renine rose and asked the girl, seriously: "Are you quite certain that he loves you, mademoiselle?" "I am certain of it and I know too that he represents all my life and all my happiness. He alone can save me. If he can't, then I shall be married in a week's time to a man whom I hate.
All kinds of murderous and sadistic follies can be covered with the antique and pious mantle of exorcism." "Let us be just," said Carhaix. "The Satanist would not be complete if he were not an abominable hypocrite." "Hypocrisy and pride are perhaps the most characteristic vices of the perverse priest," suggested Durtal.
A conversation with Gévingey would considerably amplify my contributions to the study of Satanism, especially as regards venefices and succubacy. Let's see. Would you mind if we invited him here to dine?" Carhaix scratched his head, then emptied the ashes of his pipe on his thumbnail. "Well, you see, the fact is, we have had a slight disagreement." "What about?" "Oh, nothing very serious.
On the moorland above the old grey village of Carhaix, in Finistère Finistère, the most westerly province of Brittany stands a cottage, built, as all the cottages in that country are, of rough-hewn stones.
"Is this mine ancient nurse, Perrote de Carhaix?" she said. "I think I know her face." The smile was gone in a moment, as she repeated her wish to be taken immediately to the Countess. Lady Foljambe felt she had no choice. She led the way to the chamber of the royal prisoner, requesting Lady Basset to wait for a moment at the door. The Countess sat no longer in her cushioned chair by the window.
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