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Merrick, Leonard, 1864-1939

"A Chair on the Boulevard"

Man has no instinct."
"May one inquire the cause of these flattering reflections?"
Her laughter pealed.
"Let us talk of something else!" she commanded. "When does your play
come out, monsieur Thibaud Hippolyte Duboc? You see I learnt your name,
too."
"You have all the advantages," I complained. "Will you take a second
cup of coffee, mademoiselle--er--?"
"No, thank you, monsieur," she said.
"Well, will you take a liqueur, mademoiselle--er--?"
"Mademoiselle Er will not take a liqueur either," she pouted.
"Well, will you take a walk?"
In the end we took an omnibus, and then we proceeded to the Buttes-
Chaumont--and very agreeable I found it there. We chose a seat in the
shade, and I began to feel that I had known her all my life. More
precisely, perhaps, I began to feel that I wished to know her all my
life. A little breeze was whispering through the boughs, and she lifted
her face to it gratefully.
"How delicious," she said. "I should like to take off my hat."
"Do, then!"
"Shall I?"
"Why not?"
She pulled the pins out slowly, and laid the hat aside, and raised her
eyes to me, smiling.
"Well?" she murmured.
"You are beautiful."
"Is that all?"
"What more would you have me say?"
The glare of sunshine mellowed while we talked; clocks struck unheeded
by me. It amazed me at last, to discover how long she had held me
captive. Still, I knew nothing of her affairs, excepting that she was
hard up--that, by comparison, I was temporarily prosperous.


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