A love episode

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Société des beauxarts, 1905 - Fiction - 389 pages
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Page 67 - In the centre of the picture, the Seine spread out and reigned between its grey banks, to which rows of casks, steam cranes, and carts drawn up in line, gave a seaport kind of aspect. Helene's eyes were always turning towards this shining river, on which boats passed to and fro like birds with inky plumage. Her looks involuntarily followed the water's stately course, which, like a silver band, cut Paris atwain.
Page 68 - The details so clearly defined in the foreground, the innumerable denticles of the chimneys, the little black specks of the thousands of windows, grew less and less distinct as you gazed farther and farther away, till everything became mingled in confusion — the pell-mell of an endless city, whose faubourgs, afar off, looked like shingly beaches, steeped in a violet haze under the bright, streaming, vibrating light that fell from the heavens.
Page 199 - ... [KARL is silent, continues reading his paper. MIMI comes down left.] Don't you want to work to-day? KARL. No. [Continues reading paper. HEINRICH goes into the studio.] MIMI [in bad humor, crosses to center]. Good-bye. [Turns around.] And to-morrow? KARL. No. MIMI [sad]. Good-bye. [Wipes her eyes.] You don't love me any more . . . you don't love me any more.
Page 66 - Paris, with its chaotic maze of stonework, shone as through under glass. From time to time, however, a breath of wind passed athwart this bright, quiescent serenity; and then the outlines of some districts grew faint, and quivered as if they were being viewed through an invisible flame. Helene took interest at first in gazing on the large expanse spread under her windows, the slope of the Trocadero, and the far-stretching quays.
Page 24 - ... there was a scarcity of work he begged on the highroads, living partly on the vegetables he stole. He professed strong revolutionary principles, which he was fond of airing in village ale-shops. He was a friend of Hyacinthe Fouan. La Terre. LETELLIER, father of Madame Deberle and her sister Pauline. He owned an extensive silk warehouse on the Boulevard des Capucines. " Since his wife's death he had been taking his younger daughter about everywhere, in search of a rich husband for her.
Page 143 - Vincent de Paul, the tower of SaintJacques, and, nearer in, the pavilions of the new Louvre and the Tuileries, were crowned by a blaze, which lent them the aspect of sacrificial pyres. The dome of the Invalides was flaring with such brilliancy that you instinctively feared lest it should suddenly topple down and scatter burning flakes over the neighborhood.
Page 142 - The azure vault was illuminated with glory ; deep on the horizon the crumbling ridge of chalk clouds, blotting out the distant suburbs of Charenton and Choisy-leRoi, now reared rocks of a tender pink, outlined with brilliant crimson ; the flotilla of cloudlets, drifting slowly through the...
Page 123 - ... fell on one another. One tiny girl, but four years old. all pink and white, considered the spectacle so entrancing that she pressed her little hands devoutly to her heart. Others burst into applause, while the boys laughed, with mouths agape, their deeper voices mingling with the shrill peals from the girls.
Page 66 - ... hidden from sight. It was as the ocean, with all the infinity and mystery of its waves. Paris spread out as vast as the heavens on high. Burnished with the sunshine that lovely morning, the city looked like a field of yellow corn; and the huge picture was all simplicity, compounded of two colors only, the pale blue of the sky, and the golden reflections of the housetops.
Page 67 - Bridge followed bridge, they appeared to get closer, to rise one above the other like viaducts forming a flight of steps, and pierced with all kinds of arches; while the river, wending its way beneath these airy structures, showed here and there small patches of its blue robe, patches which became narrower and narrower, more and more indistinct. And again did Hellene raise her eyes, and over yonder the stream forked amidst a jumble of houses; the bridges on either side of the island of La Cite...

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