The Novels, Romances, and Memoirs of Alphonse Daudet Volume 2 (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated.1904 Excerpt: ... XXI. THE SITTING. That morning there was not, as usual, a grand breakfast-party at number 32 Place Vend6me. So that about one o'clock you might have seen M. Barreau's majestic paunch arrayed in white linen displaying itself at the entrance to the porch, surrounded by four or five scullions in their paper caps and as many grooms in Scotch caps, --an imposing group, which gave the sumptuous mansion the appearance of a hostelry, where the whole staff was taking a breath of fresh air between two arrivals. The resemblance was made complete by the cab stopping in front of the door and the driver lifting down an old-fashioned leather trunk, while a tall old woman in a yellow cap, an erect figure with a little green shawl over her shoulders, leaped lightly to the sidewalk, a basket on her arm, and looked carefully at the number, then approached the group of servants and asked if that was where M. Bernard Jansoulet lived. "This is the place," was the reply. "But he is n t in. "That's no matter," said the old woman, very naturally. She returned to the driver, bade him put her trunk under the porch, and paid him, at once replacing her purse in her pocket with a gesture that said much for provincial distrust. Since Jansoulet had been Deputy for Corsica, his servants had seen so many strange, foreignlooking creatures alight at his door that they were not greatly surprised at sight of that sunburned woman, with eyes like glowing coals, bearing much resemblance in her simple head-dress to a genuine Corsican, some old psalm-singer straight from the underbrush, but distinguished from newly-arrived islanders by the ease and tranquillity of her manners. "What do you say, the master is n't in?" she said with an intonation which is much more frequently heard by the hands on a fa...