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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard by Anatole France
page 105 of 258 (40%)
sees my heart, knows whether pride or vanity have aught to do with
this self-award of justice.

But I am tired; my eyes are dim; my hand trembles, and I see an
image of myself in those old me of Homer, whose weakness excluded
them from the battle, and who, seated upon the ramparts, lifted up
their voices like crickets among the leaves.

So my thoughts were wandering when three young men seated themselves
near me. I do not know whether each one of them had come in three
boats, like the monkey of Lafontaine, but the three certainly
displayed themselves over the space of twelve chairs. I took pleasure
in watching them, not because they had anything very extraordinary
about them, but because I discerned in them that brave joyous manner
which is natural to youth. They were from the schools. I was less
assured of it by the books they were carrying than by the character
of their physiognomy. For all who busy themselves with the things
of the mind can be at once recognised by an indescribably something
which is common to all of them. I am very fond of young people;
and these pleased me, in spite of a certain provoking wild manner
which recalled to me my own college days with marvellous vividness.
But they did not wear velvet doublets and long hair, as we used to
do; they did not walk about, as we used to do, "Hell and malediction!"
They were quite properly dressed, and neither their costume nor their
language had anything suggestive of the Middle Ages. I must also
add that they paid considerable attention to the women passing on the
terrace, and expressed their admiration of some of them in very
animated language. But their reflections, even on this subject,
were not of a character to oblige me to flee from my seat. Besides,
so long as youth is studious, I think it has a right to its gaieties.
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