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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard by Anatole France
page 79 of 258 (30%)
those of the stable and the dog-kennel are the only ones thoroughly
mastered by him.

I cannot say I was surprised to meet him, since we had made a
rendezvous; but I acknowledge that I had become so preoccupied with
my own thoughts that I had forgotten all about the Chateau de
Lusance and its inhabitants, and that the voice of the gentleman
calling out to me as I started to follow the country road winding
away before me--"un bon ruban de queue," as they say--had given me
quite a start.

I fear my face must have betrayed my incongruous distraction by a
certain stupid expression which it is apt to assume in most of my
social transactions. My valise was pulled up into the carriage,
and I followed my valise. My host pleased me by his straightforward
simplicity.

"I don't know anything myself about your old parchments," he said;
"but I think you will find some folks to talk to at the house.
Besides the cure, who writes books himself, and the doctor, who is a
very good fellow--although a radical--you will meet somebody able to
keep your company. I mean my wife. She is not a very learned woman,
but there are few things which she can't divine pretty well. Then
I count upon being able to keep you with us long enough to make you
acquainted with Mademoiselle Jeanne, who has the fingers of a magician
and the soul of an angel."

"And is this delightfully gifted young lady one of your family?" I
asked.

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