Just off the train that brought me to Paris, I enlisted in the Rue de Siam, Brest paved the stream, wet, gray, brackish and ugly. I went from a mechanical step towards the port waiting for the steamer which crossed three times a week the harbor to dump its cargo of tourists on the coast of Camaret. At a street corner, the sight of a female figure sudden I froze. An ardent face ate two large black eyes, crossed his eyes with mine. The novice that I was three-quarters felt her cheeks becoming purple. Raising his head, I continued my way resolutely. A few yards away, I could not tame my whim. I turned. The friendly face, driven by the same movement, looked at me too. I seemed to see me smile. [...]
Amelia Saint-Pol-Roux to the Manor Boultous
[...] lunch ready, the magic voice called the household. Two stocky boys burst into the room and Loredan Cecilian, the son. Then a five year old girl: Divine. Finally, the lady of the place.
Amazed more than anything that had preceded his entrance, I hesitated to persuade me ... The lady who smiled at me with the brilliance of her large black eyes was, in flesh and bone, Lady Street of Siam and the moor ...
Edward Schneider.
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