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the���������и߶˹�����ů��ů����۸�,���������ﻹ�и߶���χ whole affair was an exact specimen of the mingled extravagance, folly, vice, and weakness which were leading to the terrible retribution so swiftly approaching.[pg 29]��mademoiselle,�� said the marquis, ��what you have won there is myself, your very humble servant, who, if you will allow him, will become your husband. i put myself into my hat, with all my fortune; accept both, for they are yours.��mme. le brun blamed her for having let the gold go, and just as she said, she never got its value again, for although the same number of pieces were [132] returned, instead of the austrian gold coins they only gave her ducats, worth so much less that she lost 15,000 francs by them. then she heard that the boy was sentenced to be hanged, and as he was the son of
how she could have entertained so mad an idea s�ϻ��ֶ��������и߶���χ��ů����绰eems inexplicable; but in fact, bad as the french news was, she was far from und���������ﻹ�и߶���χerstanding the frightful state of the country. in those days news travelled slowly, important events only became partially known long after they had taken place; and as to private letters, people dared not put in them anything which might endanger either themselves or their friends.henceforth the journey was a pleasure, and with [89] feelings of admiration and awe she gazed upon the magnificent scenery as she ascended the mighty mont cenis; stupendous mountains rising above her, their snowy peaks buried in clouds, their steep sides hung with pine forests, the roar of falling torrents perpetually in her ears.they drove on a little way in silence, for mrs keeling��s utterance got a little choked up with pride and gratification, like a congested gutter, and in all her husband��s mental equipment there was nothing that could be responsive to these futilities. they evoked nothing whatever in him; he had not the soil from which they sprang, which mrs keeling had carted into her own psychical garden in such abundance since she had become lady mayoress. besides, for the present there{250} was nothing real to him, not the lunch, not the public recognition, not the impending club election, except that moment when he had fixed norah��s glance, drawn it to himself as on an imperishable thread across the crowded rooms, when he rose to reply. he almost wished his wife would go on talking again: her babble seemed to build a wall round him, which cutting him off by its inanity from other topics t
��see madame, people go also to pay their court to mme. le brun. they must certainly be rendezvous which they have at her house.��in 1786 mme. le brun received an in�ϻ��ֶ��������и߶���χ��ů����绰vitation to paint the portrait of mme. du barry, the once lovely and all powerful favourite of louis xv. with great curiosity she went down to the chateau of louveciennes, given to his mistress by the late king, where she still lived in luxury but almost in solitude, for of the courtiers and acquaintances who [74] had crowded round her in the days of her prosperity scarcely any remembered her now.���������и߶˹�����ů��ů����۸�