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. The velvety, perfumed liquor, between fawn and topaz, neither too sweet nor too dry, creamed in its generous glass. But I knew no wine composed of the whispers of angels’ wings, the breath of Eden and the foam and pulse of Youth renewed. So I asked what it might be. ‘It is champagne,’ he said gravely. |
This is from “The Bull that Thought”, collected in Debits and Credits. The writer has taken out his Rolls for a speed-test, on a moonlit summer night in the Rhone Delta. He has been accompanied by M.Voiron, a distinguished Frenchman, who invites him to a celebratory dinner. Over a memorable champagne, M. Voiton tells the story of Apis, The Bull that Thought. |
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