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To judge by your eyelashes your own hair has been a handsomer colour." "We seek disguise, not beauty, my host; and the police have sharp eyes." "C'est juste: buvez, donc-vieux Renard! When did we two meet last?" "Never, that I know of." "Ce n'est pas vrai! buvez, donc, MONSIEUR FAVART!"
To-night I am engaged. But I shall see you soon." "Est il vrai ce mensonge-la?" Coralie said this loud! I put up my hand so as to be able to continue observing Alathea's face. It was the picture of disgust and resentment. "Yes, it is perfectly true, Coralie Bon soir." In a temper, one could gather, Coralie put the receiver down! And I laughed aloud.
is, in reality, only a feeble adaptation of his "Priez pour feu le vrai tresor de vie." But although Jean Francois was not unknown during his lifetime, and although, as his verse testifies, he knew his name would live among those of the enduring poets after his death, his life was one of rough hardship, brief pleasures, long anxieties, and constant uncertainty.
Our historians all quote, with an admiration almost as misplaced as their horror of Warwick's "barbarous instincts," the vrai galant homme of an Englishman who in the midst of the trial cried out "Brave femme!" However we are not concerned to defend the English share of the crime.
Then Ugolina passed by them describing the poetry of the motion of the spheres in a full flow of impassioned eloquence to M. Delabarbe de l'Empereur: 'C'est toujours vrai; ce que mademoiselle dit est toujours vrai, was the Frenchman's answer, which they heard thrice repeated.
"Il etait bien beau, cet homme la! Il m'aimait beaucoup! Je le regretterai toujours! C'etait un vrai gaillard!" Which heartfelt tribute from a nameless wanton served for epitaph to the man lying in an unmarked grave in the soldiers plot at Fort Regent.
A ship's clerk is a useful person, but he is scarcely the captain; and an orderly-room writer, however smart he may be, is not the colonel. You see, the writer class in India has never till now aspired to anything like command. It wasn't allowed to. The Indian gentleman, for thousands of years past, has resembled Victor Hugo's noble: 'Un vrai sire Chatelain Laisse ecrire Le vilain.
He is a very dangerous person, un vrai mangeur de coeur!" "I know, your Majesty," I answered, "and I expect to be brought back on a litter." She laughed and passed on. Monsieur Niewekerke looked pleasantly conscious and flattered as we walked to the dining-room, and I felt as if I was being led to the altar to be sacrificed like poor little Isaac.
But what makes you suppose that I should be angry? Rubbish! Il faut que jeunesse se passe. Even if that officer were here now, I should refrain from putting him out of the room if I thought you really cared for him. Only, mind you, do not give him any of my money. You hear?" "You say, do you, that you would not be angry? Mais tu es un vrai philosophe, sais-tu? Oui, un vrai philosophe!
At last, taking up the pen, he signed the Secret Treaty. Then suddenly he seemed to recover his spirits, as, turning to M. de Talleyrand, he said, "Maintenant nous sommes complices, n'est ce pas vrai?"
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