Cousin Pons

Cousin Pons

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Cousin Pons

Cousin Pons

Read FREE!

Excerpt

Towards three o'clock of an afternoon in October, 1844, a man about sixty years old -- though most persons would have thought him older -- was passing along the Boulevard des Italiens, his nose to the scent as it were, his lips pharisaically pursed, like those of a merchant who has just concluded a profitable piece of business, or a young fellow satisfied with himself as he leaves a boudoir. In Paris that is the highest known expression of personal satisfaction in man.

As the old man approached within sight of the various persons who daily sit on chairs along the boulevard and enjoy the pleasure of analyzing the passers-by, a smile flickered across the faces of one and all, -- a smile peculiar to the inhabitants of Paris; meaning many things, ironical, sarcastic, or compassionate, though it never dawns upon the face of a Parisian, blasé as he is with sights of every kind, unless drawn forth by some great and living curiosity. The clever saying a certain actor may serve to explain both the archælogical value of this worthy man, and the meaning of the smile which . . .

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