France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"'Hommes noirs, d'ou sortez-vous?
Nous sortons de dessous, terre.'"
"Ah, that's my man! The god of simple folks!
"'Mes amis, parlons plus bas:
Je vois Judas, je vois Judas!'"
"Twenty-one! You've only three more. Now, at the place where my
iron-works are, there's a bishop who is very easy-going. Well, all the
bigots detest him. Now, if he pretended to be a bigot, if he were a
hypocrite and spent all his time at church----"
* * * * *
"I never saw Mme. Bourjot so amiable," remarked Mme. Mauperin, when she
and her family were all back in the carriage.
"An odd chap, that Bourjot," observed M. Mauperin. "It isn't much good
having a billiard-table of his own either--I could have given him a
start of twelve."
"I think Noemi is very strange," said Renee. "Did you see, Henri, how
she wanted to get out of acting?"
Henri did not answer.
XIII
Noemi had just entered Mme. Mauperin's drawing-room followed by her
governess. She looked uncomfortable and ill at ease, almost shy, in
fact, but on glancing round she appeared to be somewhat reassured. She
advanced to speak to Mme. Mauperin, who kissed her. Renee then embraced
her, and, joking and laughing all the time, proceeded to take off her
friend's cape and hat.
"Ah, I'm forgetting," she exclaimed, turning the dainty white hat
trimmed with pink flowers round on her hand, "let me introduce M.
Denoisel again. You have met him before in the old days--that sounds as
though we were quite aged, doesn't it?--and he is our theatrical
manager, our professor of elocution, our prompter--scene
shifter--everything."
"I have not forgotten how kind M. Denoisel used to be to me when I was a
little girl," and Noemi, flushing with emotion as her thoughts went back
to her childhood, held out her hand somewhat awkwardly and with such
timidity that her fingers all clung together.
"Oh, but what a pretty costume!" continued Renee, walking round her.
"You look sweet," and then patting her own taffeta dress, which was
rather the worse for wear, she held out her skirt and made a low
reverence. "You'll make a rather pretty Mathilde--I shall be jealous,
you know.--But look, mamma," she continued, drawing herself up to her
full height. "I told you so--she makes me quite small.--Now, then--you
see you are much taller than I am." As she spoke she placed herself side
by side with Noemi and, putting her arm round her waist, led her to the
glass and put her shoulder against her friend's. "There, now!" she
exclaimed.
The governess was keeping in the background at the other end of the
_salon_. She was looking at some pictures in a book that she had only
dared to half open.
"Come, my dears, shall we begin to read the play?" said Mme. Mauperin.
"It's no use waiting for Henri; he will only come to the last rehearsals
when the actresses are well on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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