Did you notice how
he slept?" And the next day the whole town would talk of the matter.
"The Baron du Guenic fails," was a phrase that opened the conversation
in many houses.
"How is Thisbe?" asked Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel of the chevalier, as
soon as the cards were dealt.
"The poor little thing is like her master," replied the chevalier;
"she has some nervous trouble, she goes on three legs constantly. See,
like this."
In raising and crooking his arm to imitate the dog, the chevalier
exposed his hand to his cunning neighbor, who wanted to see if he had
Mistigris or the trump,--a first wile to which he succumbed.
"Oh!" said the baroness, "the end of Monsieur le cure's nose is
turning white; he has Mistigris."
The pleasure of having Mistigris was so great to the rector--as it was
to the other players--that the poor priest could not conceal it. In
all human faces there is a spot where the secret emotions of the heart
betray themselves; and these companions, accustomed for years to
observe each other, had ended by finding out that spot on the rector's
face: when he had Mistigris the tip of his nose grew pale.
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