abash-stone | stood-yield
Par.
1 21| She looked at me, seemed abashed and hid her face completely
2 18| But I love above all in this cemetery the
3 41| home in a carriage. She accepted, and in the cab we sat so
4 8 | charms and finally decides according to the influence of the
5 59| so lonely.' Then she added:~
6 69| only impressed with the admirable, profoundly philosophical
7 14| in Montmartre one can yet admire Baudin's monument, which
8 2 | from his observations, his adventures, from everything he saw,
9 23| some months before. I was affected to tears and redoubled my
10 40| one on whom one can bestow affection, confidence, intimacy.~
11 8 | weather -- I went out one afternoon, not knowing where I was
12 5 | happened to me some time ago."~
13 13| convulsed with the death agony than all the tortured corpses
14 43| I agreed with eagerness. She ascended
15 9 | lighted a cigar and sauntered aimlessly along the outer boulevard.
16 23| her gasping breath would allow, how the officer was killed
17 11| little woman whose memory, although it causes me great sorrow,
18 69| went my way, filled with amazement, asking myself what this
19 1 | especially of what interested and amused Parisians. Their conversation
20 16| and the weakened, weary, anaemic sun increased, while rendering
21 2 | saw, met with and found, anecdotes at once comical and philosophical,
22 38| Would you like to go in anywhere, to take something?'~
23 59| yielded, saying by way of apology to herself: 'I am so lonely --
24 23| regained consciousness. I appeared very much moved. I am not
25 66| woman. Oh, horrors! As they approached I recognized her. It was
26 47| tempted. I caught her in my arms and rained kisses on her
27 21| and her veil spreading around her, covered the white corners
28 13| All modern and realistic art has originated there, messieurs.
29 43| agreed with eagerness. She ascended the stairs slowly, breathing
30 69| filled with amazement, asking myself what this all meant,
31 4 | plate, half torpid in an atmosphere of tobacco blended with
32 62| seemed to be really rather attached to me.~
33 63| Other things occupied my attention, and it was about a month
34 23| to tears and redoubled my attentions. They were successful. She
35 51| I became very attentive and, after chatting for
36 16| The feeling of autumn, of the warm moisture which
37 66| at the end of a narrow avenue of crosses, a couple in
38 21| glanced about her as if awaking from a nightmare. She looked
39 1 | married, the two others bachelors. They met like this every
40 23| very much moved. I am not bad looking, I am not forty.
41 63| questions whose solution baffles us.~
42 20| head, the hair in Madonna bands looking like rays of dawn
43 2 | lively of them was Joseph de Bardon, a celibate living the Parisian
44 14| Montmartre one can yet admire Baudin's monument, which has a
45 8 | middle of September -- it was beautiful weather -- I went out one
46 51| I became very attentive and, after
47 12| And then I like cemeteries because they are immense cities
48 60| sombre, and went into her bedroom. When she reappeared she
49 62| This friendship, begun amid the tombs, lasted about
50 23| married him for love, and being an orphan, she had only
51 69| to what race of beings belonged this huntress of the tombs?
52 18| cypresses, the older portion, belonging to those dead long since,
53 21| the white corners of the beloved tomb, like a fresh token
54 21| convulsively, and her head slowly bent down toward the marble.
55 10| sadness; I need it. And, besides, I have good friends in
56 2 | world in its widest and best sense, gifted with a brilliant,
57 40| have no one on whom one can bestow affection, confidence, intimacy.~
58 4 | perfectly at home. He said between two whiffs:~
59 21| charming, the eyes of a bewildered woman, with which she glanced
60 20| away when I saw a woman in black, in deep mourning, kneeling
61 4 | an atmosphere of tobacco blended with steaming coffee, he
62 22| her, slapped her hands, blew on her eyelids, while I
63 67| She saw me, blushed, and as I brushed past her
64 17| how much superior to the books of Paul de Kock for getting
65 23| fragments as well as her gasping breath would allow, how the officer
66 43| ascended the stairs slowly, breathing hard. Then, as we stood
67 61| She drank some champagne, brightened up, grew lively and I went
68 2 | best sense, gifted with a brilliant, but not profound, mind,
69 65| those who have not yet broken off all relations with their
70 14| immortelles, yellow immortelles, brought thither by whom? Possibly
71 67| saw me, blushed, and as I brushed past her she gave me a little
72 11| cemetery of Montmartre that is buried a romance of my life, a
73 18| corpses cut down in order to bury in rows beneath little slabs
74 69| by the memory of vanished caresses? Was she unique? Are there
75 22| Here lies Louis-Theodore Carrel, Captain of Marine Infantry,
76 41| suggested taking her home in a carriage. She accepted, and in the
77 36| on my arm, while I almost carried her along the paths of the
78 13| subterranean chapel of the Cathedral of Rouen. All modern and
79 47| was terribly tempted. I caught her in my arms and rained
80 11| whose memory, although it causes me great sorrow, also fills
81 13| in museums. The tomb of Cavaignac reminded me, I must confess
82 40| mourners of the dead go to celebrate the funeral. We went in.
83 2 | was Joseph de Bardon, a celibate living the Parisian life
84 61| enjoyable. She drank some champagne, brightened up, grew lively
85 13| Breze in the subterranean chapel of the Cathedral of Rouen.
86 8 | inspire you, their comparative charms and finally decides according
87 46| morning only, what one calls a charwoman.~
88 1 | youth, and after dinner they chatted until two o'clock in the
89 51| very attentive and, after chatting for some time, I said:~
90 21| then she sank down with her cheek on the marble slab and remained
91 13| making any comparison, of the chef d'oeuvre of Jean Goujon:
92 68| a gentleman, distingue, chic, an officer of the Legion
93 8 | pretty woman or other. One chooses among them in one's mental
94 9 | the air warm. I lighted a cigar and sauntered aimlessly
95 12| because they are immense cities filled to overflowing with
96 66| direction of this great city of the dead I perceived
97 2 | him a great reputation for cleverness in society.~
98 1 | they chatted until two o'clock in the morning. Having remained
99 41| and in the cab we sat so close that our shoulders touched.~
100 3 | talked without having to be coaxed.~
101 4 | tobacco blended with steaming coffee, he seemed to be perfectly
102 7 | a great deal, like book collectors who ransack book stalls.
103 24| I consoled her, I comforted her, raised her and lifted
104 69| the tombs? Was she just a common girl, one who went to seek
105 8 | they inspire you, their comparative charms and finally decides
106 8 | mental picture gallery, compares them in one's mind, weighs
107 13| confess without making any comparison, of the chef d'oeuvre of
108 21| abashed and hid her face completely in her hands. Then she sobbed
109 41| perhaps twenty. I paid her compliments, which she took in good
110 2 | no true erudition, ready comprehension without true understanding,
111 21| within the shadow of her concealed and closed eyes, she herself
112 13| Cavaignac reminded me, I must confess without making any comparison,
113 40| one can bestow affection, confidence, intimacy.~
114 23| successful. She regained consciousness. I appeared very much moved.
115 1 | s society, they probably considered these the pleasantest evenings
116 24| I consoled her, I comforted her, raised
117 1 | amused Parisians. Their conversation was, as in the majority
118 13| like inanimate flesh still convulsed with the death agony than
119 21| her hands. Then she sobbed convulsively, and her head slowly bent
120 21| around her, covered the white corners of the beloved tomb, like
121 60| dress. She evidently had a costume for the cemetery and one
122 3 | each time, upon which they counted, and he talked without having
123 66| narrow avenue of crosses, a couple in deep mourning walking
124 20| kneeling on the next grave. Her crape veil was turned back, uncovering
125 12| with a stone or marked by a cross, while living beings take
126 21| suppose that she was going to cry. She wept softly at first,
127 40| went in. I made her drink a cup of hot tea, which seemed
128 5 | A curious thing happened to me some
129 18| nourished by the human corpses cut down in order to bury in
130 18| full of great yews and cypresses, the older portion, belonging
131 | d
132 22| I darted toward her, slapped her
133 20| bands looking like rays of dawn beneath her sombre headdress.
134 7 | wander about Paris a great deal, like book collectors who
135 2 | whimsical manner. He was not a debauche nor depraved, but a singular,
136 17| where the relatives of the deceased have unburdened their sorrow,
137 8 | comparative charms and finally decides according to the influence
138 14| s monument, which has a degree of grandeur; that of Gautier,
139 46| maid did not come. I was delighted, thinking that this maid
140 59| She demurred a little. I insisted. She
141 2 | He was not a debauche nor depraved, but a singular, happy fellow,
142 18| all in this cemetery the deserted portion, solitary, full
143 8 | takes away from you all desire to make calls.~
144 17| unburdened their sorrow, their desires for the happiness of the
145 23| she told me her history in detached fragments as well as her
146 66| as I wandered in another direction of this great city of the
147 14| by Millet, but ruined by dirt and neglect. Sing of youth,
148 68| The man was a gentleman, distingue, chic, an officer of the
149 13| tortured corpses that are distorted to-day in funeral monuments.~
150 20| in a low tone, which she doubtless did not hear, and was moving
151 23| she had only the usual dowry.~
152 61| was very enjoyable. She drank some champagne, brightened
153 11| of all kinds. And I go to dream beside her grave. She has
154 60| slender in a very simple gray dress. She evidently had a costume
155 60| When she reappeared she was dressed in half-mourning, charming,
156 2 | without true understanding, he drew from his observations, his
157 40| We went in. I made her drink a cup of hot tea, which
158 43| I agreed with eagerness. She ascended the stairs
159 4 | As he sat smoking, his elbows on the table, a petit verre
160 69| they parade the street? Or else was she only impressed with
161 1 | in the majority of salons elsewhere, a verbal rehash of what
162 11| impression on me, a very emotional, charming little woman whose
163 12| forever, veritable troglodytes enclosed in their little vaults,
164 66| perceived suddenly, at the end of a narrow avenue of crosses,
165 22| Infantry, killed by the enemy at Tonquin. Pray for him.'~
166 61| The dinner was very enjoyable. She drank some champagne,
167 1 | remained intimate friends, and enjoying each other's society, they
168 22| while I read this simple epitaph: 'Here lies Louis-Theodore
169 17| And I began to read the epitaphs. That is the most amusing
170 42| murmured: 'I do not feel equal to going upstairs alone,
171 2 | varied knowledge, but no true erudition, ready comprehension without
172 45| Everything was modest, even rather poor, but simple
173 1 | considered these the pleasantest evenings of their lives. They talked
174 60| very simple gray dress. She evidently had a costume for the cemetery
175 6 | Tell it to us," they all exclaimed at once.~
176 69| profoundly philosophical idea of exploiting love recollections, which
177 50| had a languid, resigned expression that set my mind at rest.~
178 67| tiny little signal with her eye, which meant: 'Do not recognize
179 40| seemed to revive her. A faint smile came to her lips.
180 20| back, uncovering a pretty fair head, the hair in Madonna
181 19| and that I must place the faithful homage of my remembrance
182 36| When we got outside she faltered:~
183 24| her and lifted her on her feet. Then I said:~
184 2 | depraved, but a singular, happy fellow, still young, for he was
185 44| Come in a few moments so that I may thank
186 68| the Legion of Honor, about fifty years old. He was supporting
187 11| causes me great sorrow, also fills me with regrets -- regrets
188 16| sensation of solitude and of finality that hovered over this spot
189 8 | their comparative charms and finally decides according to the
190 13| terrible, more like inanimate flesh still convulsed with the
191 42| for I live on the fourth floor. You have been so good.
192 65| mourner on its marble slab, no flowers, no wreath.~
193 21| motion of her back, like a flutter of wind through a willow,
194 10| I am very fond of cemeteries. They rest
195 21| the marble. She leaned her forehead on it, and her veil spreading
196 12| Parisians who are housed there forever, veritable troglodytes enclosed
197 63| friend. However, I did not forget her. The recollection of
198 2 | everything he saw, met with and found, anecdotes at once comical
199 42| alone, for I live on the fourth floor. You have been so
200 23| her history in detached fragments as well as her gasping breath
201 48| She freed herself and pushed me away,
202 62| This friendship, begun amid the tombs, lasted
203 2 | the Parisian life in its fullest and most whimsical manner.
204 69| which are revived in these funereal places?~
205 8 | in one's mental picture gallery, compares them in one's
206 23| fragments as well as her gasping breath would allow, how
207 14| degree of grandeur; that of Gautier, of Murger, on which I saw
208 12| space, think of all the generations of Parisians who are housed
209 68| The man was a gentleman, distingue, chic, an officer
210 62| about three weeks. But one gets tired of everything, especially
211 17| books of Paul de Kock for getting rid of the spleen are these
212 2 | its widest and best sense, gifted with a brilliant, but not
213 69| tombs? Was she just a common girl, one who went to seek among
214 10| cemeteries. They rest me and give me a feeling of sadness;
215 21| meditation, rigid as a statue, given up to her grief, telling
216 23| forty. I saw by her first glance that she would be polite
217 21| bewildered woman, with which she glanced about her as if awaking
218 50| did not resist, and as our glances met after thus outraging
219 10| those that one no longer goes to call on, and I go there
220 36| of the cemetery. When we got outside she faltered:~
221 13| the chef d'oeuvre of Jean Goujon: the recumbent statue of
222 14| monument, which has a degree of grandeur; that of Gautier, of Murger,
223 23| she would be polite and grateful. She was, and amid more
224 20| Leaning over the iron grating, I told her of my sorrow
225 12| vaults, in their little graves covered with a stone or
226 60| slender in a very simple gray dress. She evidently had
227 61| champagne, brightened up, grew lively and I went home with
228 14| whom? Possibly by the last grisette, very old and now janitress
229 18| taken into use again; the growing trees nourished by the human
230 20| a pretty fair head, the hair in Madonna bands looking
231 60| reappeared she was dressed in half-mourning, charming, dainty and slender
232 5 | A curious thing happened to me some time ago."~
233 17| sorrow, their desires for the happiness of the vanished ones and
234 2 | depraved, but a singular, happy fellow, still young, for
235 47| She had taken off her hat. She was really pretty,
236 20| dawn beneath her sombre headdress. I stayed.~
237 15| think when you are in good health, 'This place is not amusing,
238 20| which she doubtless did not hear, and was moving away when
239 21| fresh token of mourning. I heard her sigh, then she sank
240 19| felt a tightening of the heart as I reached her grave.
241 21| at me, seemed abashed and hid her face completely in her
242 23| more tears she told me her history in detached fragments as
243 19| must place the faithful homage of my remembrance on my
244 68| officer of the Legion of Honor, about fifty years old.
245 17| vanished ones and their hope of rejoining them -- humbugs!~
246 66| a man and a woman. Oh, horrors! As they approached I recognized
247 40| made her drink a cup of hot tea, which seemed to revive
248 42| When the cab stopped at her house she murmured: 'I do not
249 12| generations of Parisians who are housed there forever, veritable
250 16| solitude and of finality that hovered over this spot which savors
251 63| little cemetery friend. However, I did not forget her. The
252 17| hope of rejoining them -- humbugs!~
253 2 | philosophical, and made humorous remarks that gave him a
254 69| of beings belonged this huntress of the tombs? Was she just
255 69| profoundly philosophical idea of exploiting love recollections,
256 | ill
257 12| and make so much noise -- imbeciles that they are~
258 12| cemeteries because they are immense cities filled to overflowing
259 62| her under pretext of an imperative journey. She made me promise
260 69| street? Or else was she only impressed with the admirable, profoundly
261 11| sweetheart who made a great impression on me, a very emotional,
262 13| more terrible, more like inanimate flesh still convulsed with
263 16| weakened, weary, anaemic sun increased, while rendering it poetical,
264 63| psychological problem, one of those inexplicable questions whose solution
265 22| Carrel, Captain of Marine Infantry, killed by the enemy at
266 8 | decides according to the influence of the day. But when the
267 12| filled to overflowing with inhabitants. Think how many dead people
268 17| have laughed at the comical inscriptions on tombstones. Oh, how much
269 59| She demurred a little. I insisted. She yielded, saying by
270 8 | interest with which they inspire you, their comparative charms
271 8 | in one's mind, weighs the interest with which they inspire
272 1 | subject, especially of what interested and amused Parisians. Their
273 13| are monuments almost as interesting as in museums. The tomb
274 40| bestow affection, confidence, intimacy.~
275 1 | morning. Having remained intimate friends, and enjoying each
276 20| Leaning over the iron grating, I told her of my
277 14| grisette, very old and now janitress in the neighborhood. It
278 13| of the chef d'oeuvre of Jean Goujon: the recumbent statue
279 2 | most lively of them was Joseph de Bardon, a celibate living
280 62| pretext of an imperative journey. She made me promise that
281 45| And, by Jove, I went in. Everything was
282 15| that is not all pain, a kind of sadness that makes you
283 11| regrets -- regrets of all kinds. And I go to dream beside
284 50| But I next kissed her on the mouth and she
285 47| her in my arms and rained kisses on her eyelids, which she
286 20| black, in deep mourning, kneeling on the next grave. Her crape
287 8 | went out one afternoon, not knowing where I was going. One always
288 2 | mind, with much varied knowledge, but no true erudition,
289 17| to the books of Paul de Kock for getting rid of the spleen
290 17| in the world. Never did Labiche or Meilhac make me laugh
291 50| Tonquin, I saw that she had a languid, resigned expression that
292 62| friendship, begun amid the tombs, lasted about three weeks. But one
293 17| Labiche or Meilhac make me laugh as I have laughed at the
294 17| make me laugh as I have laughed at the comical inscriptions
295 34| their wife. Love has no law.'~
296 21| down toward the marble. She leaned her forehead on it, and
297 16| redolent of the death of the leaves, and the weakened, weary,
298 68| her myself when we were leaving the cemetery.~
299 21| of wind through a willow, led me to suppose that she was
300 62| especially of women. I left her under pretext of an
301 68| chic, an officer of the Legion of Honor, about fifty years
302 60| I must put on something less sombre, and went into her
303 42| have been so good. Will you let me take your arm as far
304 22| this simple epitaph: 'Here lies Louis-Theodore Carrel, Captain
305 24| comforted her, raised her and lifted her on her feet. Then I
306 9 | bright, the air warm. I lighted a cigar and sauntered aimlessly
307 70| And I would have liked to know whose widow she
308 40| faint smile came to her lips. She began to talk about
309 42| going upstairs alone, for I live on the fourth floor. You
310 1 | pleasantest evenings of their lives. They talked on every subject,
311 46| to talk again about her loneliness. She rang for her maid,
312 10| there, those that one no longer goes to call on, and I go
313 7 | ransack book stalls. I just look at the sights, at the people,
314 21| awaking from a nightmare. She looked at me, seemed abashed and
315 21| wept softly at first, then louder, with quick motions of her
316 22| simple epitaph: 'Here lies Louis-Theodore Carrel, Captain of Marine
317 19| dear, she was so dainty, so loving and so white and fresh --
318 20| told her of my sorrow in a low tone, which she doubtless
319 20| pretty fair head, the hair in Madonna bands looking like rays
320 1 | conversation was, as in the majority of salons elsewhere, a verbal
321 15| a kind of sadness that makes you think when you are in
322 13| I must confess without making any comparison, of the chef
323 2 | fullest and most whimsical manner. He was not a debauche nor
324 22| Louis-Theodore Carrel, Captain of Marine Infantry, killed by the
325 12| covered with a stone or marked by a cross, while living
326 1 | five men of the world, mature, rich, three married, the
327 21| hands and, standing there in meditation, rigid as a statue, given
328 64| thought I might possibly meet her in the Montmartre Cemetery,
329 65| about a long time without meeting any but the ordinary visitors
330 17| world. Never did Labiche or Meilhac make me laugh as I have
331 8 | chooses among them in one's mental picture gallery, compares
332 13| art has originated there, messieurs. This dead man, Louis de
333 8 | Toward the middle of September -- it was beautiful
334 64| but one day I thought I might possibly meet her in the
335 14| pretty little statue by Millet, but ruined by dirt and
336 13| Cathedral of Rouen. All modern and realistic art has originated
337 45| went in. Everything was modest, even rather poor, but simple
338 16| feeling of autumn, of the warm moisture which is redolent of the
339 44| Come in a few moments so that I may thank you.'~
340 39| Yes, monsieur.'~
341 23| He had died some months before. I was affected to
342 14| can yet admire Baudin's monument, which has a degree of grandeur;
343 16| spot which savors of human mortality.~
344 21| dead. All at once a little motion of her back, like a flutter
345 21| marble slab and remained motionless, unconscious.~
346 21| then louder, with quick motions of her neck and shoulders.
347 28| good. Did you also come to mourn for some one?'~
348 65| killed at Tonquin had no mourner on its marble slab, no flowers,
349 40| of those places where the mourners of the dead go to celebrate
350 23| consciousness. I appeared very much moved. I am not bad looking, I
351 20| doubtless did not hear, and was moving away when I saw a woman
352 13| almost as interesting as in museums. The tomb of Cavaignac reminded
353 63| of her haunted me like a mystery, like a psychological problem,
354 66| suddenly, at the end of a narrow avenue of crosses, a couple
355 21| with quick motions of her neck and shoulders. Suddenly
356 10| a feeling of sadness; I need it. And, besides, I have
357 14| but ruined by dirt and neglect. Sing of youth, O Murger!~
358 17| streets of tombs, where the neighbors do not visit each other,
359 17| amusing thing in the world. Never did Labiche or Meilhac make
360 17| together and do not read the newspapers. And I began to read the
361 40| life, alone in one's home, night and day, to have no one
362 21| her as if awaking from a nightmare. She looked at me, seemed
363 12| much room and make so much noise -- imbeciles that they are~
364 2 | manner. He was not a debauche nor depraved, but a singular,
365 18| again; the growing trees nourished by the human corpses cut
366 2 | understanding, he drew from his observations, his adventures, from everything
367 63| Other things occupied my attention, and it was
368 9 | Then, as I strolled on, it occurred to me to walk as far as
369 13| comparison, of the chef d'oeuvre of Jean Goujon: the recumbent
370 46| for her maid, in order to offer me some wine. The maid did
371 18| yews and cypresses, the older portion, belonging to those
372 17| happiness of the vanished ones and their hope of rejoining
373 19| and now -- if one should open the grave ----~
374 65| without meeting any but the ordinary visitors to this spot, those
375 13| modern and realistic art has originated there, messieurs. This dead
376 23| him for love, and being an orphan, she had only the usual
377 1 | three married, the two others bachelors. They met like
378 8 | beautiful weather -- I went out one afternoon, not knowing
379 9 | sauntered aimlessly along the outer boulevard. Then, as I strolled
380 50| our glances met after thus outraging the memory of the captain
381 36| the cemetery. When we got outside she faltered:~
382 12| immense cities filled to overflowing with inhabitants. Think
383 41| young, perhaps twenty. I paid her compliments, which she
384 15| sadness that is not all pain, a kind of sadness that
385 14| the other day a simple, paltry wreath of immortelles, yellow
386 1 | had read in the morning papers.~
387 7 | know that I wander about Paris a great deal, like book
388 2 | Bardon, a celibate living the Parisian life in its fullest and
389 41| which she took in good part. Then, as time was passing,
390 67| blushed, and as I brushed past her she gave me a little
391 36| almost carried her along the paths of the cemetery. When we
392 17| superior to the books of Paul de Kock for getting rid
393 4 | coffee, he seemed to be perfectly at home. He said between
394 41| touched. She was very young, perhaps twenty. I paid her compliments,
395 21| herself seemed like a dead person mourning another who was
396 | petit
397 8 | among them in one's mental picture gallery, compares them in
398 4 | verre half full beside his plate, half torpid in an atmosphere
399 1 | probably considered these the pleasantest evenings of their lives.
400 7 | With pleasure. You know that I wander
401 16| increased, while rendering it poetical, the sensation of solitude
402 23| glance that she would be polite and grateful. She was, and
403 22| by the enemy at Tonquin. Pray for him.'~
404 62| women. I left her under pretext of an imperative journey.
405 63| mystery, like a psychological problem, one of those inexplicable
406 69| there many such? Is it a profession? Do they parade the cemetery
407 69| impressed with the admirable, profoundly philosophical idea of exploiting
408 62| imperative journey. She made me promise that I would come and see
409 63| me like a mystery, like a psychological problem, one of those inexplicable
410 48| She freed herself and pushed me away, saying:~
411 60| I must put on something less sombre,
412 63| one of those inexplicable questions whose solution baffles us.~
413 21| first, then louder, with quick motions of her neck and
414 69| this all meant, to what race of beings belonged this
415 47| caught her in my arms and rained kisses on her eyelids, which
416 24| consoled her, I comforted her, raised her and lifted her on her
417 46| about her loneliness. She rang for her maid, in order to
418 7 | like book collectors who ransack book stalls. I just look
419 20| Madonna bands looking like rays of dawn beneath her sombre
420 19| tightening of the heart as I reached her grave. Poor dear, she
421 2 | but no true erudition, ready comprehension without true
422 13| Louis de Breze, is more real, more terrible, more like
423 13| of Rouen. All modern and realistic art has originated there,
424 60| into her bedroom. When she reappeared she was dressed in half-mourning,
425 18| those who have died more recently.~
426 67| eye, which meant: 'Do not recognize me!' and also seemed to
427 66| horrors! As they approached I recognized her. It was she!~
428 69| idea of exploiting love recollections, which are revived in these
429 13| oeuvre of Jean Goujon: the recumbent statue of Louis de Breze
430 16| the warm moisture which is redolent of the death of the leaves,
431 23| was affected to tears and redoubled my attentions. They were
432 19| sauntered about long enough to refresh my mind I felt that I would
433 23| They were successful. She regained consciousness. I appeared
434 1 | salons elsewhere, a verbal rehash of what they had read in
435 17| vanished ones and their hope of rejoining them -- humbugs!~
436 65| have not yet broken off all relations with their dead. The grave
437 17| these crosses where the relatives of the deceased have unburdened
438 2 | philosophical, and made humorous remarks that gave him a great reputation
439 19| the faithful homage of my remembrance on my little friend's last
440 21| telling the sad rosary of her remembrances within the shadow of her
441 13| museums. The tomb of Cavaignac reminded me, I must confess without
442 16| anaemic sun increased, while rendering it poetical, the sensation
443 2 | remarks that gave him a great reputation for cleverness in society.~
444 50| that she had a languid, resigned expression that set my mind
445 50| the mouth and she did not resist, and as our glances met
446 19| my little friend's last resting place. I felt a tightening
447 62| would come and see her on my return. She seemed to be really
448 40| hot tea, which seemed to revive her. A faint smile came
449 69| recollections, which are revived in these funereal places?~
450 1 | men of the world, mature, rich, three married, the two
451 17| Paul de Kock for getting rid of the spleen are these
452 21| standing there in meditation, rigid as a statue, given up to
453 11| Montmartre that is buried a romance of my life, a sweetheart
454 12| living beings take up so much room and make so much noise --
455 21| her grief, telling the sad rosary of her remembrances within
456 13| chapel of the Cathedral of Rouen. All modern and realistic
457 18| down in order to bury in rows beneath little slabs of
458 14| little statue by Millet, but ruined by dirt and neglect. Sing
459 1 | was, as in the majority of salons elsewhere, a verbal rehash
460 21| heard her sigh, then she sank down with her cheek on the
461 16| hovered over this spot which savors of human mortality.~
462 67| me!' and also seemed to say, 'Come back to see me again,
463 2 | still young, for he was scarcely forty. A man of the world
464 69| common girl, one who went to seek among the tombs for men
465 16| rendering it poetical, the sensation of solitude and of finality
466 2 | world in its widest and best sense, gifted with a brilliant,
467 8 | Toward the middle of September -- it was beautiful weather --
468 21| remembrances within the shadow of her concealed and closed
469 19| fresh -- and now -- if one should open the grave ----~
470 21| of mourning. I heard her sigh, then she sank down with
471 7 | stalls. I just look at the sights, at the people, at all that
472 18| belonging to those dead long since, and which will soon be
473 41| That sounded sincere. It sounded pretty from
474 14| ruined by dirt and neglect. Sing of youth, O Murger!~
475 2 | debauche nor depraved, but a singular, happy fellow, still young,
476 28| Thank you, sir; you are good. Did you also
477 22| I darted toward her, slapped her hands, blew on her eyelids,
478 17| visit each other, do not sleep together and do not read
479 60| half-mourning, charming, dainty and slender in a very simple gray dress.
480 12| people there are in this small space, think of all the
481 40| seemed to revive her. A faint smile came to her lips. She began
482 4 | As he sat smoking, his elbows on the table,
483 21| completely in her hands. Then she sobbed convulsively, and her head
484 46| side by side on a little sofa and she began to talk again
485 21| was going to cry. She wept softly at first, then louder, with
486 18| cemetery the deserted portion, solitary, full of great yews and
487 16| poetical, the sensation of solitude and of finality that hovered
488 63| inexplicable questions whose solution baffles us.~
489 12| there are in this small space, think of all the generations
490 3 | He was the after dinner speaker and had his own story each
491 70| whose widow she was on that special day."~
492 17| Kock for getting rid of the spleen are these marble slabs and
493 21| forehead on it, and her veil spreading around her, covered the
494 43| eagerness. She ascended the stairs slowly, breathing hard.
495 7 | collectors who ransack book stalls. I just look at the sights,
496 21| face with her hands and, standing there in meditation, rigid
497 25| Do not stay here. Come.'~
498 20| her sombre headdress. I stayed.~
499 4 | of tobacco blended with steaming coffee, he seemed to be
500 12| little graves covered with a stone or marked by a cross, while
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