marche, as marcheline was known, shot it down, thinking it was “too Hebrew.”
marche leaned forward and scanned the water and sky alternately.
marche picked up a crumpled roll of paper from the ground and opened it.
marche glanced up at the portrait of the boy's mother in its pale-gilt oval.
"I think I heard some such dialogue yesterday," said marche, much amused.
It was surprising how quickly camp was broken and the long train got under way at the cries of “marche donc!”
Every one goes to the marche and the company is mixed enough there.
The stranger looked at me keenly, and when his scrutiny was completed he fell to whistling a bar of Chopin's marche Funèbre.
marche, too, remained silent, preoccupied with his own reflections.
This is a parade that reminds one strongly of Gottschalk's "marche de Nuit."