contemporary abstract painting

croquant- (overlook the barbarism)- croquant chocolate comfits, and
smoking alternately, watching meantime the equipages that rolled along
the fashionable streets towards the neighbouring opera-house, when
in an elegant close carriage drawn by a beautiful pair of English
horses, and distinctly seen in the brilliant city-night, I
recognised the "voiture" I had given Celine. She was returning: of
course my heart thumped with impatience against the iron rails I leant
upon. The carriage stopped, as I had expected, at the hotel door; my
flame (that is the very word for an opera inamorata) alighted:
though muffled in a cloak- an unnecessary encumbrance, by the bye,
on so warm a June evening- I knew her instantly by her little foot,
seen peeping from the skirt of her dress, as she skipped from the
carriage step. Bending over the balcony, I was about to murmur "Mon
ange"- in a tone, of course, which should be audible to the ear of
love alone- when a figure jumped from the carriage after her;
cloaked also; but that was a spurred heel which had rung on the
pavement, and that was a hatted head which now passed under the arched