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Updated: June 11, 2025
The tone touched him made him think less and less of her as a dare-devil boy, as a reckless child-soldier, and more of her as what she was, than he had done before; he touched her almost caressingly. "Pauvre enfant! I hope that day will be very distant from you. And yet how bravely you risked death for me just now!"
They managed to meet him, as he walked to and from the Arsenal, where the Commission sat, and cheered him with kind looks. Madame de Sévigné tells us how she and other ladies of the same faith took post at a window to see "notre pauvre ami" go by. "M. d'Artagnau walked by his side, followed by a guard of fifty mousquetaires. He seemed sad. D'Artagnau touched him to let him know that we were there.
Mademoiselle Bourienne was often touched to tears as in imagination she told this story to him, her seducer. And now he, a real Russian prince, had appeared. He would carry her away and then sa pauvre mere would appear and he would marry her. So her future shaped itself in Mademoiselle Bourienne's head at the very time she was talking to Anatole about Paris.
And, Monsieur, my little girl my child that is far away across the sea she thanks you also. Elle m'aime, Monsieur elle m'aime, cette pauvre petite! What shall she do if I die?" Again he raised his hand to his brow. He was unconscious of anything theatrical in the gesture. He was in sad earnest, and his eyes were wet with tears, which he made no effort to conceal.
But arms caught me from behind, as I would have sunk to the floor with the roar of another explosion in my ears, each brick of the house quivering on another. A kind Belgian voice was soothing me: "Pauvre enfant!" and hands, strong, though womanly, would have pulled me away from the window to lay me down on some unoccupied bunk, if I had not struggled to keep my place. "No no!" I stammered.
He sat himself down, talked of the Regent, of pleasure, of women, and, at last, of this very tall lady in question. "/La pauvre diablesse/," said he, contemptuously, "I had once compassion on her; I have repented it ever since.
She ought to be able to sing charmingly when she is older," said Miss Phipps to Mademoiselle, and Mademoiselle nodded her head in assent. "I 'ope so! It is a great charm for a young girl to sing well, and she is not pretty. La pauvre petite!"
It was the daughter of Madame Bordier's late sister Pauvre fille who had worn the costume. She was a Femme Orchestre of such skill that her name was known from one end of the Eure to another. She made money, too, bien sr, but hlas! she married a vaurien acrobat who had taken her off to America, where she had died last year.
After a while they found a pitiful little heap of sodden rags, lying at the foot of a mound of earth and stones thrown upon the side of the track. It was Titee with a broken leg, all wet and miserable and moaning. They picked him up tenderly, and started to carry him home. But he cried and clung to the mother, and begged not to go. "Ah, mon pauvre enfant, he has the fever!" wailed the mother.
He laughed, and obeyed her, setting a cup and plate within reach. "You seem to have been making the most of your privilege. Have you done anything while I was out?" "But yes. I have been possessing my soul in quietness; and I have been talking to Eldred." He passed a caressing hand over her hair. "Pauvre petite! How much of that do you really believe?" "Don't ask uncomfortable questions!
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