Grandma the soul of a witch the fire of a lioness shirt, hoodie, tank top
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But I know he painted his face. Grandma the soul of a witch the fire of a lioness shirt. He might paint it all he would; he could never make me like it! The marquis couldn’t abide him, and declared that sooner than take such a husband as that Mademoiselle Claire should take none at all. He and my lady had a great scene; it came even to our ears in the servants’ hall. It was not their first quarrel, if the truth must be told.
Grandma the soul of a witch the fire of a lioness shirt
They were not a loving couple, but they didn’t often come to words, because, I think, neither of them thought the other’s doings worth the trouble. My lady had long ago got over her jealousy, and she had taken to indifference. In this, I must say, they were well matched. The marquis was very easy-going; he had a most gentlemanly temper. He got angry only once a year, but then it was very bad. He always took to bed directly afterwards. Grandma the soul of a witch the fire of a lioness shirt. This time I speak of he took to bed as usual, but he never got up again. I’m afraid the poor gentleman was paying for his dissipation; isn’t it true they mostly do, sir, when they get old? My lady and Mr. Urbain kept quiet, but I know my lady wrote letters to M. de Cintre. The marquis got worse and the doctors gave him up. My lady, she gave him up too, and if the truth must be told, she gave up gladly. When once he was out of the way she could do what she pleased with her daughter, and it was all arranged that my poor innocent child should be handed over to M. de Cintre. You don’t know what Mademoiselle was in those days, sir; she was the sweetest young creature in France, and knew as little of what was going on around her as the lamb does of the butcher. I used to nurse the marquis, and I was always in his room. It was here at Fleurieres, in the autumn. We had a doctor from Paris, who came and stayed two or three weeks in the house.
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Then there came two others, and there was a consultation, and these two others, as I said, declared that the marquis couldn’t be saved. After this they went off, pocketing their fees, but the other one stayed and did what he could. The marquis himself kept crying out that he wouldn’t die, that he didn’t want to die, that he would live and look after his daughter. Mademoiselle Claire and the viscount– that was Mr. Valentin, you know–were both in the house. The doctor was a clever man,–that I could see myself,– and I think he believed that the marquis might get well. We took good care of him, he and I, between us, and one day, when my lady had almost ordered her mourning, my patient suddenly began to mend. He got better and better, till the doctor said he was out of danger. What was killing him was the dreadful fits of pain in his stomach. But little by little they stopped, and the poor marquis began to make his jokes again. The doctor found something that gave him great comfort–some white stuff that we kept in a great bottle on the chimney-piece. I used to give it to the marquis through a glass tube; it always made him easier.