ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
The Red Lily — Complete. Anatole France
Читать онлайн.Название The Red Lily — Complete
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4057664622631
Автор произведения Anatole France
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
Anatole France
The Red Lily — Complete
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4057664622631
Table of Contents
CHAPTER II. “ONE CAN SEE THAT YOU ARE YOUNG!”
CHAPTER III. A DISCUSSION ON THE LITTLE CORPORAL
CHAPTER IV. THE END OF A DREAM
CHAPTER V. A DINNER ‘EN FAMILLE’
CHAPTER VI. A DISTINGUISHED RELICT
CHAPTER VII. MADAME HAS HER WAY
CHAPTER VIII. THE LADY OF THE BELLS
CHAPTER IX. CHOULETTE FINDS A NEW FRIEND
CHAPTER X. DECHARTRE ARRIVES IN FLORENCE
CHAPTER XI. “THE DAWN OF FAITH AND LOVE”
CHAPTER XIII. “YOU MUST TAKE ME WITH MY OWN SOUL!”
CHAPTER XV. THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER
CHAPTER XVII. MISS BELL ASKS A QUESTION
CHAPTER XVIII. “I KISS YOUR FEET BECAUSE THEY HAVE COME!”
CHAPTER XIX. CHOULETTE TAKES A JOURNEY
CHAPTER XX. WHAT IS FRANKNESS?
CHAPTER XXI. “I NEVER HAVE LOVED ANY ONE BUT YOU!”
CHAPTER XXII. A MEETING AT THE STATION
CHAPTER XXIII. “ONE IS NEVER KIND WHEN ONE IS IN LOVE”
CHAPTER XXIV. CHOULETTE’S AMBITION
CHAPTER XXV. “WE ARE ROBBING LIFE”
CHAPTER XXVI. IN DECHARTRE’S STUDIO
CHAPTER XXVII. THE PRIMROSE PATH
CHAPTER XXVIII. NEWS OF LE MENIL
CHAPTER XXX. A LETTER FROM ROBERT
CHAPTER XXXI. AN UNWELCOME APPARITION
CHAPTER XXXIV. “I SEE THE OTHER WITH YOU ALWAYS!”
BOOK 1.
CHAPTER I. “I NEED LOVE”
She gave a glance at the armchairs placed before the chimney, at the tea-table, which shone in the shade, and at the tall, pale stems of flowers ascending above Chinese vases. She thrust her hand among the flowery branches of the guelder roses to make their silvery balls quiver. Then she looked at herself in a mirror with serious attention. She held herself sidewise, her neck turned over her shoulder, to follow with her eyes the spring of her fine form in its sheath-like black satin gown, around which floated a light tunic studded with pearls wherein sombre lights scintillated. She went nearer, curious to know her face of that day. The mirror returned her look with tranquillity, as if this amiable woman whom she examined, and who was not unpleasing to her, lived without either acute joy or profound sadness.
On the walls of the large drawing-room, empty and silent, the figures of the tapestries, vague as shadows, showed pallid among their antique games and dying graces. Like them, the terra-cotta statuettes on slender columns, the groups of old Saxony, and the paintings of Sevres, spoke of past glories. On a pedestal ornamented with precious bronzes, the marble bust of some princess royal disguised as Diana appeared about to fly out of her turbulent drapery, while on the ceiling a figure of Night, powdered like a marquise and surrounded by cupids,