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Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

You have been
engaged in good works!"
"Only the sauces, Favraud!--_seulement les sauces_" "The sauces--it's
just that!--Tide is a mere charlatan in comparison," turning to me.
"Miss Harz, you never tasted any thing before like madame's soup and
sauces. I wish she would take me in partnership for a while, if only to
teach me the recipes that will otherwise die with her. What a restaurant
we two could keep together!"
"You are too unsteady, Favraud, for my _maitre d'hotel._ Your mind is
too much engrossed by the bubbles of politics, you would spoil all my
materials, and realize the old proverb that 'the devil sends cooks.' But
go to work like a good fellow, and carve the dish before you; by that
time the soup will be removed. I have a fine fish, however, in reserve
(let me announce this at once), for my end of the table."
"Here are croquets too, as I live," said Duganne, lifting a cover before
him and peeping in, then returning it quietly to its place. "Are you a
fairy, madame?"
"Much more like a witch," she said, with gayety. "You young men, at
least, think every old, toothless gray-haired crone like me ready for
the stake, you know."
"Not when they make such steaks," said Dr. Durand, attacking the dish,
with its savory surroundings, before him.
"Ah! you make calembourgs, my good doctor.--What do you call them,
Favraud? It is one of the few English words I do not know--or forget.


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