Marsh N. Death on the Air and Other Stories

Then Florence's love on the one side, and the incidents of everyday life on the other, effaced little by little the bitter recollection of the supreme parting. I even forgot on the anniversary of her death to go and gather the tiny flowers, the roots of which fed on the substance of my beloved little mistress. The Countess was more faithful to the memory of poor Violette, and sometimes sent me the flowers with but one word: “Ungrateful man!” And now that the story of our short-lived love has come to an end, I have nothing more to do than roll up my MS., tie it up, and, happen what may, I throw it at random on the desk of some intelligent publisher who may be clever enough to catch it up. Sweet Seventeen Sweet Seventeen: the True Story of a Daughter's Awful Whipping and its Delightful if Direful Consequence Anonymous What is there in the air of Paris which leads us all on to excesses of erotic appetite? Why is sensual gratification the be-all and end-all of the dwellers in the French capital, not dubbed the “Gay City” for nothing? The atmosphere is transparently clear; the climate is relaxing ...»