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?‰mile, 1840-1902

"Four Short Stories By Emile Zola"

Thereupon they were
all moved to pity about the little boy, and they remembered seeing him
at the races. Oh, it was a wretchedly sickly baby; it looked so old and
so sad. In fact, it was one of those poor brats who never asked to be
born!
"He's happier under the ground," said Blanche.
"Bah, and so's she!" added Caroline. "Life isn't so funny!"
In that gloomy room melancholy ideas began to take possession of their
imaginations. They felt frightened. It was silly to stand talking so
long, but a longing to see her kept them rooted to the spot. It was
very hot--the lamp glass threw a round, moonlike patch of light upon the
ceiling, but the rest of the room was drowned in steamy darkness. Under
the bed a deep plate full of phenol exhaled an insipid smell. And every
few moments tiny gusts of wind swelled the window curtains. The window
opened on the boulevard, whence rose a dull roaring sound.
"Did she suffer much?" asked Lucy, who was absorbed in contemplation
of the clock, the design of which represented the three Graces as nude
young women, smiling like opera dancers.
Gaga seemed to wake up.
"My word, yes! I was present when she died. I promise you it was not at
all pleasant to see.


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