o signify caution and silence, and extends e delicacy and tact, s ure at  miging on . An expression as of a baby in a sie sraverses  Bourbonesque features. tempting to peer over o see terie de cuisine but  gets in the way.

    Per is to s , or else a genuine tribute to  noic grace, he gooses her.

    My motc a sigo bloen egg-, great artist t srembles, not once, as sray  a mite of agitation stirs the spoon.

    For it is, you understand, time for seasoning. And in goes just sufficient cayenne, time. Not a grain more. e a kiss.

    tes topple into ts of  as t in a trap. Surns all into the soufflé dish.

    weaks.

    And t;to !quot; Departing from t, my mot, smack! doo to th a low moan.

    quot;take t,quot; sly ss the oven.

    quot;; I cry.

    quot;ould you  it touc time?quot;

    t temples  long last o.

    quot;Quelle femme,quot; he murmurs.

    My motopch in hand, pays him no heed.

    quot;S; I explain, overcome .

    quot; dedication!quot;

    truck. ares at my mot enoug ly as a man c .

    quot;I beg you, I implore you --quot;

    But my mothe oven.

    quot;; table queen of all t spreads its arcire kitc leaps upy alone confines it. All present (some forty-seven in number -- tcion of me, plus the duc) applaud and cheer.

    to tc ss ion t noacion and gateau Saint- infrequent babas au r -- I am tcer into my inance; besides,  t (Yorkshe land?

    For am I not tepson?