Word: mme
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...Toulouse paper Dépêche du Midi, and his wife Régine venture into Central Park. Apparently expecting the tranquillity of Paris' Luxembourg Gardens, they confront instead bongo drums, tape decks, roller skaters, family picnics and baseball games. "Trap décontracté," says Mme. Bonnemaison, disgusted. Too relaxed. "Everyone does just what he wants!" New York is an interesting place to visit, but although they are amazed to find people actually living there, obviously it is impossible. Mixed reviews, thumbs waggle...
...unrelenting menace. In Le Chambon, he found, there worked a dedication to human life that transcended all religion and politics. It could be seen in stealthy heroics but also in the naive warmth of Trocmé's wife Magda: when two policemen came to arrest her husband, Mme. Trocmé invited them to have dinner before leaving. Friends later rebuked her: "How could you bring yourself to sit down to eat with these men who were there to take your husband away, perhaps to his death? How could you be so forgiving, so decent to them?" Magda only replied...
...nationally. At the first, there was a row of armchairs with snowy antimacassars and little tables set for tea. The occupants turned out to be top members of the Chinese Establishment: Vice Premier Deng Xiaoping (Teng Hsiao-p'ing), Foreign Minister Huang Hua, Vice Premier Fang Yi and Mme. Sun Yatsen, who is in her late 80s. During the intermission, Deng held a reception at which he said in effect that he did not know much about music but he knew what he liked: anything that promoted friendship. After the concert, he led his tea party to the stage...
...over, the newlyweds successfully escaped from the palace undetected and were whisked away to a honeymoon site that Junot had cleverly kept secret from everyone, including Caroline. And so, as the left-wing French newspaper Le Matin headlined the story, "Caroline Grimaldi, whose father carried 17 titles, will become Mme. Junot. What a victory for democracy!" Or for love...
...unselfish helper was Celeste Albaret, Proust's companion and housekeeper from 1913 until his death in 1922. In her late 50s, when Curtiss met her, Celeste and her husband, Odilon, who had been Proust's chauffeur, were running a dreary, working-class hotel on the Left Bank. Mme. Albaret's memory was a library in itself; she seemed to have cross-filed and indexed everything Proust had done or said. At one point, she told Curtiss, the master had been thrilled by a letter from a "M. Henri Jammes." Jammes -Henry James-had written that he thought...