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—Man, man, interrupted another concurrent, you. They are getting into one of those depths of which hundreds of books are written, without finding an end to the thread, and I wanted to talk about the lady, the one who has neither father nor mother, who is pretty as a star She dresses like a queen, plays, sings, smiles, sweetens life, and on the least expected day she takes a drunkard who dispatches her to the other neighborhood, wearing a kid’s glove and a bonnet made of delicious furs.
“By the way,” said one of the friends, to one of your companions. a set that seems like a novel has just passed …
The boy is handsome, elegant and a man of the world, although very reserved and tough-looking.
The captain invited you to a dinner, in Lit-House, of those farms between trees and flowers that you will have. seen at the edge of the Park.
Apartments such as cloisters and own rooms to change direction at every moment, and a dining room with all the gadgets that a good tone demands when gluttony reigns.
They were from the party a thing of seven garzones like almond trees, and as many beautiful ones, realizations of the ideal of the most in love bards.
They sang, touched themselves, danced, and the flower of life was shed, dropping it into crystalline water with the essence of rose.
It seems that I see P. with his black eyes, his curly hair, his teeth that, when he smiles, give off light. Leila was at her side, in her white silk dress, crossed by some very pretty strings of roses.
Leila triumphs in her perfection of the Venus de Medici; between a hair of golden foam, her countenance appears as a glorification of the ideal; in the atmosphere that surrounds her voluptuousness rocks; her movements caress, her eyes intoxicate and torment. Her ensemble is like a song, her walk is the hymn. If closed eyes passed by our side, we would feel our soul swimming in light ……
This woman was speaking with P. Y. G., and her alabaster arm rested on her ebony hair, at the foot of a statue of Apollo, as if completing a group of Phidias.
She told him that he fulfilled a commitment while there; that he had a dying friend; that he seemed to listen to her; that he had no peace; and she abandoned herself melancholy, hiding her lip of carmine in a chalice of white rose, which seemed to surrender and open its petals with avidity, to collect his kisses.