. "Good-bye, Sweetheart!" a tale . 8—:. CHAPTER VIII. WHAT THE AUTHOR SAYS. QT^?^^^ HE blandness born of after-dinnerhood is upon all DInan;everybody Is as stiave as fedlions ; a child might play with them. Themoon is holding her great yellow candleabove the town, and ugly black nightskulks away in corners. On the other sideof the Place St. Louis, the old priest issitting at the bottom of his garden, readinghis breviary by moonlight. His whitehouses green shutters, that have beenclosed all day, to keep out the dust and WJiat tJic AiitJwr Says. 117 glare, are just opened to let In the eveningco
. "Good-bye, Sweetheart!" a tale . 8—:. CHAPTER VIII. WHAT THE AUTHOR SAYS. QT^?^^^ HE blandness born of after-dinnerhood is upon all DInan;everybody Is as stiave as fedlions ; a child might play with them. Themoon is holding her great yellow candleabove the town, and ugly black nightskulks away in corners. On the other sideof the Place St. Louis, the old priest issitting at the bottom of his garden, readinghis breviary by moonlight. His whitehouses green shutters, that have beenclosed all day, to keep out the dust and WJiat tJic AiitJwr Says. 117 glare, are just opened to let In the eveningcool. The mysterious family In the largeyellow house, a little lower down, whoalways go out driving in a ramshackle oldclose carriage, with all the windows up,about sundown, are setting off on theirnightly expedition. The Immense shadowsof their horses are running up the face ofthe Pension Leroux : the heads and earsreach to the ^<^/^;^ windows. Madame Lange,Cesar and Peroline are out. They havegone faire de la miLsiqiic cJicz M. le C
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1872