Short stories of the tragedy and comedy of life with a critical preface . roposed to the world. THE RENDEZVOUS LTHOUGH she had her bonnet and jacket on, with a black veil over her face, and another in her pocket, which would be put on over the other as soon as she had got into a cab, she was tapping the top of her little boot with the point of her parasol, and remained sitting in her room, unable to make up her mind to keep this appointment. And yet how many times within the last^(^ two years had she dressed herself thus, whenshe knew that her husband would be on theStock Exchange, in order to


Short stories of the tragedy and comedy of life with a critical preface . roposed to the world. THE RENDEZVOUS LTHOUGH she had her bonnet and jacket on, with a black veil over her face, and another in her pocket, which would be put on over the other as soon as she had got into a cab, she was tapping the top of her little boot with the point of her parasol, and remained sitting in her room, unable to make up her mind to keep this appointment. And yet how many times within the last^(^ two years had she dressed herself thus, whenshe knew that her husband would be on theStock Exchange, in order to go to the bachelorchambers of handsome Viscount de Martelet. The clock behind her was ticking loudly, a bookwhich she had half read was lying open on a littlerosewood writing-table, between the windows, and astrong sweet smell of violets from two bunches inDresden china vases mingled with a vague smell ofverbena which came through the half-open door ofher dressing-room. The clock struck three, she rose up from herchair, turned round to look at herself in the glass(84). THE RENDEZVOUS 85 and smiled. He is already waiting for me, and willbe getting tired. Then she left the room, told her footman that shewould be back in an hour, at the latest — which wasa lie — went downstairs, and ventured into the streeton foot. It was toward the end of May, that delightful timeof the year when spring seems to be besiegingParis, flowing over its roofs, invading its housesthrough their walls, and making the city look gay,shedding brightness over its granite facades, the as-phalt of its pavements, the stones on its streets,bathing and intoxicating it with new life, like aforest putting on its spring vesture. Madame Haggan went a few steps to the right, in-tending, as usual, to go along the Parade Provence,where she would hail a cab. But the soft air, thatfeeling of summer which penetrates our breasts onsome days, now took possession of her so suddenlythat she changed her mind and went down t


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Keywords: ., bookauthormaupassa, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1903