Three short works / The Dance of Death, the Legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller, a Simple Soul.

he sun shone on the river and warmed the slated roof. Old Mother

an of the church with his halberd, then the beadle with a large cross, the teacher in charge of the boys and a sister escorting the little girls; three of the smallest ones, with curly heads, threw rose leaves into the air; the deacon with outstretched arms conducted the music; and two incense-bearers turned with each

mon wiped it away with a cloth, saying inwardly that som

a moment and then died away. A volley of musketry shook the

eyes and said as l

ight?" meani

d her whole frame trembled. In a little while could be heard the music of the bass horns, the clear voices of the children a

ge-trees, and all along the edge were silver candlesticks, porcelain vases containing sun-flowers, lilies, peonies, and tufts of hydrangeas. This mound of bright colours descended diagonally from the first floor to the carpet that covered the sidewalk. Rare objects arrested one's ey

sers slipping on their chains were swung high in the air. A blue vapour rose in Félicité's room. She opened her nostrils and inhaled it with a mystic sensuousness; then she closed her lids. Her lips smiled. The beats of her