Page:The Rebellion in the Cevennes (Volume 1).djvu/116

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"Amiable!" cried she passionately —"what do you call thus, ye friends? the bad, the wretched, the worthless of this world, with which we cover our naked misery as with torn purple rags from the worn out, faded wardrobes of former times, when there were yet clothes, and ornament and men? —or has the world been always thus miserable?" —she threw the lute from her as if it terrified her. "This is also one of the deplorable customs, that we should warble and play, and make grimaces, though our hearts were to break, in case a particle of heart throb yet within us."

"You are ill," exclaimed Edmond, "so ill, that I shall run immediately to our friend Vila;" "Stop," said Christine, and while they were still disputing, an equipage quickly rattled up; all arose in the first room, it was the Marshal of Montrevel, who in his dress-uniform stepped lightly and gracefully out of the carriage and bounded up the stairs, and while the folding doors were thrown open, and the ladies and gentle-