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Updated: June 19, 2025
Then he turned on his heel. "Eh ben, here's mackerel for supper," he added as he mounted his horse. The woman was Guida Landresse, the child was her child, and they lived in the little house upon the cliff at Plemont. They were hastening thither now.
No good will come to you in the end, nannin-gia! When you go to die, you will think and think and think of that beautiful Guida Landresse; you will think and think of the heart you kill, and you will call, and she will not come. You will call till your throat rattle, but she will not come, and the child of sorrow you give her will not come no, bidemme!
" Guida Landresse de Landresse, that you will never again drink wine to excess, and that you will never do anything that" she paused confused. "That you would not wish me to do," he said in a low voice. "That I should not wish you to do," she repeated in a half-embarrassed way. "On my honour I promise," he said slowly. A strange feeling came over her.
She flashed a look at her mother, regarded him again, and then answered: "Yes, Philip sir." D'Avranche wanted to laugh, but the face of the child was sensitive and serious, and he only smiled. "Say 'Yes, Philip', won't you?" he asked. "Yes, Philip," came the reply obediently. After a moment of speech with Madame Landresse, Philip stooped to say good-bye to the child. "Good-bye, Guida."
"If you want to flourish yourself, don't mind me," said he, and picking up the next account, he began reading: Mademoiselle Landresse, in the matter of the Burial of the Sieur de Mauprat, to Etienne Mahye, &c. Item The first words read by the apprentice had stilled the breaking storm of the Master's anger. It dissolved in a fragrant dew of proud reminiscence, profit, and scandal.
He knew well that she had been his champion in dark days, that he had received far more from her than he had ever given even of friendship. In his own absorbing love for Guida Landresse, during long years he had been unconsciously blind to a devotion which had lived on without hope, without repining, with untiring cheerfulness.
"Bravery was his trade," answered another: "act like a sheep and you'll be eaten by the wolf." "It was a bad business about her that was Guida Landresse," remarked a third. "Every man knows himself, God knows all men," snuffled the fanatical barber who had once delivered a sermon from the Pompe des Brigands. "He made things lively while he lived, ba su!" droned the jailer of the Vier Prison.
At this moment the door of the watchmaker's shop opened and the little girl who had been seen at the window ran into the square, calling out: "Ro! Ro!" It was Guida Landresse. Among the French flying for refuge was the garish Turk, Rullecour's ally. Suddenly the now frightened, crying child got into his path and tripped him up.
The little Chevalier made a formal bow, and hastened to say that he was not at all hurt. With a droll composure he offered snuff to the officer, who declined politely. Turning to the window where the girl stood, the new-comer saluted with confident gallantry. "Why, it's little Guida Landresse!" he said under his breath "I'd know her anywhere. Death and Beauty, what a face!"
She flashed a look at her mother, regarded him again, and then answered: "Yes, Philip sir." D'Avranche wanted to laugh, but the face of the child was sensitive and serious, and he only smiled. "Say 'Yes, Philip', won't you?" he asked. "Yes, Philip," came the reply obediently. After a moment of speech with Madame Landresse, Philip stooped to say good-bye to the child. "Good-bye, Guida."
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