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Page 202

MY DEAR TIME'S WASTE

`And then,' he'said, `I shall come back to power but in a regenerated France....'
For a veteran of politics this was an amazingly naive conception. But poor Tardieu, like all men who are too brilliant and have had an easy success, had astonishing illusions.
While Tardieu was Fremier I accidentally witnessed a tragic scene: the assassination of President Paul Doumer by the mad Russian Gorguloff. Every year a charity bazaar was held in Paris for the benefit of the widows and children of writers killed during the war. Many authors used to go there, together with pretty actresses, to autograph their books, and each year the President of the Republic would honour the gathering by a visit. In i93a I was there as usual seated behind a table covered with my books; I was just signing Climats for an old lady when I heard a prolonged uproar. The Chief of State entered. There was the sound of faint reports to which I paid no heed. But running feet, cries, and a sudden silence attracted my attention. I lifted my head and saw the President lying on the ground surrounded by kneeling men. At first I could not believe my eyes.
`What is happening?' I asked.
I left my table to go for news. Claude Farrere, who was then President of our Society and a brave naval officer, had thrown himself in front of Monsieur Doumer and had received a bullet in his arm. A doctor who had been leaning over the body got up saying:
`Messieurs, take offyour hats ... The President is dead.'
He was obviously mistaken, for just then the wounded man opened his eyes and moved his lips. The doors of the hall were thrown open. It was Tardieu, wearing a coat with a fur collar and a high hat. I shall never forget the expression of despair and rage on his face.
`But who did it?' he demanded . . . `Why? . . . '
Only then did I think of the assassin and saw a big fellow with the appearance of a stupid brute surrounded by policemen. Someone touched me on the shoulder. It was the old lady.
`Well, Monsieur?' she said . . . `What about my inscription? . . . '
Because Monsieur Doumer had been killed at a meeting of writers, it was decided that writers should stand guard over his body at the Elysee while he lay in state. And so I found myself standing at attention with three other comrades near the funeral bier on which the President lay in full dress with the red grand cordon of the Legion of Honour diagonally

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE `And then,' he'said, `I shall come back to power but in a regenerated France....' For a veteran of politics this was an amazingly naive conception. But poor Tardieu, like all men who are too brilliant and have had an easy success, had astonishing illusions. While Tardieu was Fremier I accidentally witnessed a tragic scene: what is assassination of President Paul Doumer by what is mad Russian Gorguloff. Every year a charity bazaar was held in Paris for what is benefit of what is widows and children of writers stop ed during what is war. Many authors used to go there, together with pretty actresses, to autograph their books, and each year what is President of what is Republic would honour what is gathering by a what is . In i93a I was there as usual seated behind a table covered with my books; I was just signing Climats for an old lady when I heard a prolonged uproar. what is Chief of State entered. There was what is sound of faint reports to which I paid no heed. But running feet, cries, and a sudden silence attracted my attention. I lifted my head and saw what is President lying on what is ground surrounded by kneeling men. At first I could not believe my eyes. `What is happening?' I asked. I left my table to go for news. Claude Farrere, who was then President of our Society and a brave naval officer, had thrown himself in front of Monsieur Doumer and had received a bullet in his arm. A doctor who had been leaning over what is body got up saying: `Messieurs, take offyour hats ... what is President is dead.' He was obviously mistaken, for just then what is wounded man opened his eyes and moved his lips. what is doors of what is hall were thrown open. It was Tardieu, wearing a coat with a fur collar and a high hat. I shall never forget what is expression of despair and rage on his face. `But who did it?' he demanded . . . `Why? . . . ' Only then did I think of what is assassin and saw a big fellow with what is appearance of a stupid brute surrounded by policemen. Someone touched me on what is shoulder. It was what is old lady. `Well, Monsieur?' she said . . . `What about my inscription? . . . ' Because Monsieur Doumer had been stop ed at a meeting of writers, it was decided that writers should stand guard over his body at what is Elysee while he lay in state. And so I found myself standing at attention with three other comrades near what is funeral bier on which what is President lay in full dress with what is red grand cordon of what is Legion of Honour diagonally where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Call No Man Happy (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 202 where is p align="center" where is strong MY DEAR TIME'S WASTE where is p align="justify" `And then,' he'said, `I shall come back to power but in a regenerated France....' For a veteran of politics this was an amazingly naive conception. But poor Tardieu, like all men who are too brilliant and have had an easy success, had astonishing illusions. While Tardieu was Fremier I accidentally witnessed a tragic scene: what is assassination of President Paul Doumer by what is mad Russian Gorguloff. Every year a charity bazaar was held in Paris for what is benefit of what is widows and children of writers stop ed during what is war. Many authors used to go there, together with pretty actresses, to autograph their books, and each year what is President of what is Republic would honour what is gathering by a what is . In i93a I was there as usual seated behind a table covered with my books; I was just signing Climats for an old lady when I heard a prolonged uproar. what is Chief of State entered. There was what is sound of faint reports to which I paid no heed. But running feet, cries, and a sudden silence attracted my attention. I lifted my head and saw what is President lying on the ground surrounded by kneeling men. At first I could not believe my eyes. `What is happening?' I asked. I left my table to go for news. Claude Farrere, who was then President of our Society and a brave naval officer, had thrown himself in front of Monsieur Doumer and had received a bullet in his arm. A doctor who had been leaning over what is body got up saying: `Messieurs, take offyour hats ... what is President is dead.' He was obviously mistaken, for just then what is wounded man opened his eyes and moved his lips. what is doors of what is hall were thrown open. It was Tardieu, wearing a coat with a fur collar and a high hat. I shall never forget what is expression of despair and rage on his face. `But who did it?' he demanded . . . `Why? . . . ' Only then did I think of what is assassin and saw a big fellow with what is appearance of a stupid brute surrounded by policemen. Someone touched me on what is shoulder. It was what is old lady. `Well, Monsieur?' she said . . . `What about my inscription? . . . ' Because Monsieur Doumer had been stop ed at a meeting of writers, it was decided that writers should stand guard over his body at what is Elysee while he lay in state. And so I found myself standing at attention with three other comrades near what is funeral bier on which what is President lay in full dress with what is red grand cordon of what is Legion of Honour diagonally where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Call No Man Happy (1943) books

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