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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"


"What a beautiful collar, Mlle. Darbois; this is the first time that
you have worn it, isn't it? Count, I compliment you!"
"Mme. Styvens has just given it to me." The Duke understood the
embarrassment the child felt--not yet eighteen, and forced to
extricate herself from nets set by such expert hands as best she
could.
At half-past two the great hall was crowded by women vying with each
other in their beauty. It was a magnificent sight! Xavier Flamand went
to his stand to conduct the orchestra.
He was heartily applauded and the spectacle commenced. More than two
thousand people had come together for the fete. The hall could only
accommodate eight hundred. Other chairs had been placed on the
terrace. The tableaux began. The society assembled, appreciated a form
of art which is pleasing and not fatiguing, which charms without
disturbing.
The tableau of Andromeda was frantically applauded. The men could not
admire enough the suppleness of Esperance's lovely body, the whiteness
of her bare feet with their pink arches, the gold of her hair floating
like a nimbus around the head of Andromeda, waved by the breeze as the
stage turned. The women admired the Duke, so very beautiful in his
gold and silver armour.
"How splendid the Duke is," remarked the Countess to Albert. "No one
could have a prouder bearing. If I were in your place, my son, I
should be jealous."
"Perhaps I am," said the Count, smiling.


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