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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"


"Yes, papa, but no music after dinner: our evenings would be lost! It
is so pleasant to go for long walks on these wonderful moonlight
nights! The piano is for the town, here we only want to enjoy the
harmonious music of nature, the sea that croons or roars, the wind
that whistles, whistles or scolds, the plaint of the sea-gulls in the
storm, the cry of the frightened gulls and cormorants, the clicking of
the pebbles rolled over by the waves; all these charm me strangely and
I often sleep on the little beach, soothed by these melodies which you
will find echoed in the themes of our great masters."
The philosopher drew his daughter on his knee.
"Very well. We will not mention music to your lover."
The word had slipped out but it stung the young girl, however, she
would not let her resentment appear.
"So," she thought, "they all accept the courting of Albert Styvens. My
father himself is part of the conspiracy against me."
She led Genevieve outside and confided to her her apprehensions. Her
young friend did not deny that the coming of Count Styvens had the
appearance to all of an approaching proposal of marriage.
"My God," said Esperance, pressing her friend's arm, "it seems to me
that I shall never be able to say 'Yes.' I am so happy as I am."
The two girls were sitting on a little mound. The moon was reflected
in a sea as quiet as the sky.
"See," said Esperance, "that is the image of my life.


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