searchIcon closeIcon
Cancel
icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

A God’s Tale

Rebirth And Revenge: The Real Heiress Is Back!

Rebirth And Revenge: The Real Heiress Is Back!

R. Ink writer
Elisa watched as the most important people in her life showered the evil imposter-The fake heiress, with love. Elisa, the lost daughter of one of the most wealthiest family was found 18 years later and was brought back to her rightful home. However, someone had already taken her place. A fake heiress, the pampered little princess. Her coy acting and innocent façade made Elisa's real mother love her more than Elisa, her real daughter. That made Elisa, though, the true daughter end up as an adopted child. "Elisa, could you try not to appear in front of her too much as it could trigger her insecurities." Her parents had told her because of the fake heiress. "Elisa, You've taken everything away from her. Why can't you give her a little more?" Her fiancé had ordered her. Because of an unfortunate accident plotted by Isabelle-The fake heiress, Elisa was sent to prison and her family cut ties with her without a second thought. Four years, after much torture which led to her being crippled and blind on one eye, she was released, but got hit by a truck. While laying on the pool of her blood, she wanted to question, Why? Why had they all treated her so cruelly, while they love Isabelle unconditionally? She badly wanted to rip off Isabelle's mask of innocence, to reveal the fake, manipulative woman beneath. She was full of hatred. But after her death, she woke up back to when she was 18 years like all that happened were all nightmare. She was elated. She was reborn to re-live all that had happened in her last life, but now, her mission was to reveal mask beneath that woman and make everyone that made her suffer in her past life pay. It was her time for revenge! And definitely, she won't mess this up!
Billionaires ModernRevengeRebirth/RebornDramaArrogant/DominantBillionairesKickass Heroine
Download the Book on the App

he scene was an actress's dressing-room at the Odéon.

Félicie Nanteuil, her hair powdered, with blue on her eyelids, rouge on her cheeks and ears, and white on her neck and shoulders, was holding out her foot to Madame Michon, the dresser, who was fitting on a pair of little black slippers with red heels. Dr. Trublet, the physician attached to the theatre, and a friend of the actress's, was resting his bald cranium on a cushion of the divan, his hands folded upon his stomach and his short legs crossed.

"What else, my dear?" he inquired of her.

"Oh, I don't know! Fits of suffocation; giddiness; and, all of a sudden, an agonizing pain, as if I were going to die. That's the worst of all."

"Do you sometimes feel as though you must laugh or cry for no apparent reason, about nothing at all?"

"That I cannot tell you, for in this life one has so many reasons for laughing or crying!"

"Are you subject to attacks of dizziness?"

"No. But, just think, doctor, at night, I see an imaginary cat, under the chairs or the table, gazing at me with fiery eyes!"

"Try not to dream of cats any more," said Madame Michon, "because that's a bad omen. To see a cat is a sign that you'll be betrayed by friends, or deceived by a woman."

"But it is not in my dreams that I see a cat! It's when I'm wide awake!"

Trublet, who was in attendance at the Odéon once a month only, was given to looking in as a friend almost every evening. He was fond of the actresses, delighted in chatting with them, gave them good advice, and listened with delicacy to their confidences. He promised Félicie that he would write her a prescription at once.

"We'll attend to the stomach, my dear child, and you'll see no more cats under the chairs and tables."

Madame Michon was adjusting the actress's stays. The doctor, suddenly gloomy, watched her tugging at the laces.

"Don't scowl," said Félicie. "I am never tight-laced. With my waist I should surely be a fool if I were." And she added, thinking of her best friend in the theatre, "It's all very well for Fagette, who has no shoulders and no hips; she's simply straight up and down. Michon, you can pull a little tighter still. I know you are no lover of waists, doctor. Nevertheless, I cannot wear swaddling bands like those ?sthetic creatures. Just slip your hand into my stays, and you'll see that I don't squeeze myself too tight."

He denied that he was inimical to stays; he only condemned them when too tightly laced. He deplored the fact that women should have no sense of the harmony of line; that they should associate with smallness of the waist an idea of grace and beauty, not realizing that their beauty resided wholly in those modulations through which the body, having displayed the superb expansion of chest and bosom, tapers off gradually below the thorax, to glorify itself in the calm and generous width of the flanks.

"The waist," he said, "the waist, since one has to make use of that hideous word, should be a gradual, imperceptible, gentle transition from one to another of woman's two glories, her bosom and her womb, and you stupidly strangle it, you stave in the thorax, which involves the breasts in its ruin, you flatten your lower ribs, and you plough a horrible furrow above the navel. The negresses, who file their teeth down to a point, and split their lips, in order to insert a wooden disc, disfigure themselves in a less barbarous fashion. For, after all, some feminine splendour still remains to a creature who wears rings in the cartilage of her nose, and whose lip is distended by a circular disc of mahogany as big as this pomade pot. But the devastation is complete when woman carries her ravages into the sacred centre of her empire."

Dwelling upon a favourite subject, he enumerated one by one the deformities of the bones and muscles caused by the wearing of stays, in terms now fanciful, now precise, now droll, now lugubrious.

Nanteuil laughed as she listened. She laughed because, being a woman, she felt an inclination to laugh at physical uncomeliness or poverty; because, referring everything to her own little world of actors and actresses, each and every deformity described by the doctor reminded her of some comrade of the boards, stamping itself on her mind like a caricature. Knowing that she herself had a good figure, she delighted in her own young body as she pictured to herself all these indignities of the flesh. With a ringing laugh she crossed the dressing-room towards the doctor, dragging with her Madame Michon, who was holding on to her stay-laces as though they were reins, with the look of a sorceress being whisked away to a witches' sabbath.

"Don't be afraid!" she said.

And she objected that peasant women, who never wore stays, had far worse figures than town-bred women.

The doctor bitterly inveighed against the Western civilizations because of their contempt for and ignorance of natural beauty.

Trublet, born within the shadow of Saint-Sulpice, had gone as a young man to practise in Cairo. He brought back from that city a little money, a liver complaint, and a knowledge of the various customs of humanity. When at a ripe age, he returned to his own country, he rarely strayed from his ancient Rue de Seine, thoroughly enjoying his life, save that it depressed him a trifle to see how little able his contemporaries were to realize the deplorable misunderstandings which for eighteen centuries had kept humanity at cross-purposes with nature.

There was a tap at the door.

"It's only me!" exclaimed a woman's voice in the passage.

Félicie, slipping on her pink petticoat, begged the doctor to open the door.

Enter Madame Doulce, a lady who was allowing her massive person to run to seed, although she had long contrived to hold it together on the boards, compelling it to assume the dignity proper to aristocratic mothers.

"Well, my dear! How-d'ye-do, doctor! Félicie, you know I am not one to pay compliments. Nevertheless, I saw you the day before yesterday, and I assure you that in the second of La Mère confidente you put in some excellent touches, which are far from easy to bring off."

Nanteuil, with smiling eyes, waited-as is always the case when one has received a compliment-for another.

Madame Doulce, thus invited by Nanteuil's silence, murmured some additional words of praise:

"...excellent touches, genuinely individual business!"

"You really think so, Madame Doulce? Glad to hear it, for I don't feel the part. And then that great Perrin woman upsets me altogether. It is a fact. When I sit on the creature's knees, it makes me feel as if--You don't know all the horrors that she whispers into my ear while we are on the stage! She's crazy! I understand everything, but there are some things which disgust me. Michon, don't my stays crease at the back, on the right?"

"My dear child," cried Trublet with enthusiasm, "you have just said something that is really admirable."

"What?" inquired Nanteuil simply.

"You said: 'I understand everything, but there are some things which disgust me.' You understand everything; the thoughts and actions of men appear to you as particular instances of the universal mechanics, but in respect of them you cherish neither hatred nor anger. But there are things which disgust you; you have a fastidious taste, and it is profoundly true that morals are a matter of taste. My child, I could wish that the Academy of Moral Science thought as sanely as you. Yes. You are quite right. As regards the instincts which you attribute to your fellow-actress, it is as futile to blame her for them as to blame lactic acid for being an acid possessing mixed properties."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am saying that we can no longer assign praise or blame to any human thought or action, once the inevitable nature of such thoughts and actions has been proved for us."

"So you approve of the morals of that gawk of a Perrin, do you? You, a member of the Legion of Honour! A nice thing, to be sure!"

The doctor heaved himself up.

"My child," he said, "give me a moment's attention; I am going to tell you an instructive story:

"In times gone by, human nature was other than it is to-day. There were then not men and women only, but also hermaphrodites; in other words, beings in whom the two sexes were combined. These three kinds of human beings possessed four arms, four legs, and two faces. They were robust and rotated rapidly on their own axes, just like wheels. Their strength inspired them with audacity to war with the gods, therein following the example of the Giants, Jupiter, unable to brook such insolence--"

"Michon, doesn't my petticoat hang too low on the left?" asked Nanteuil.

"Resolved," continued the doctor, "to render them less strong and less daring. He divided each into two, so that they had now but two arms, two legs, and one head apiece, and thenceforward the human race became what it is to-day. Consequently, each of us is only the half of a human being, divided from the other half, just as one divides a sole into two portions. These halves are ever seeking their other halves. The love which we experience for one another is nothing but an invisible force impelling us to reunite our two halves in order to re-establish ourselves in our pristine perfection. Those men who result from the divisions of hermaphrodites love women; those women who have a similar origin love men. But the women who proceed from the division of primitive women do not bestow much attention upon men, but are drawn toward their own sex. So do not be astonished when you see--"

"Did you invent that precious story, doctor?" inquired Nanteuil, pinning a rose in her bodice.

The doctor protested that he had not invented a word of it. On the contrary, he had, he said, left out part of the story.

"So much the better?" exclaimed Nanteuil. "For I must tell you that the person who did invent it is not particularly brilliant."

"He is dead," remarked Trublet.

Nanteuil once more expressed her disgust of her fellow-actress, but Madame Doulce, who was prudent and occasionally took déjeuner with Jeanne Perrin, changed the subject.

"Well, my darling, so you've got the part of Angélique. Only remember what I told you: your gestures should be somewhat restrained, and you yourself a little stiff. That is the secret of the ingénue. Beware of your charming natural suppleness. Young girls in a 'stock' piece ought to be just a trifle doll-like. It's good form. The costume requires it. You see, Félicie, what you must do above all, when you are playing in La Mère confidente, which is a delightful play--"

"Oh," interrupted Félicie, "so long as I have a good part, I don't care a fig for the play. Besides, I am not particularly in love with Marivaux--What are you laughing at, doctor? Have I put my foot in it? Isn't La Mère confidente by Marivaux?"

"To be sure it is!"

"Well, then? You are always trying to muddle me. I was saying that Angélique gets on my nerves. I should prefer a part with more meat in it, something out of the ordinary. This evenings especially, the part gives me the creeps."

"All the more likely that you'll do well in it, my pet," said Madame Doulce. "We never enter more thoroughly into our parts than when we do so by main force, and in spite of ourselves. I could give you many examples. I myself, in La Vivandière d'Austerlitz, staggered the house by my gaiety of tone, when I had just been informed that my Doulce, so great an artist and so good a husband, had had an epileptic fit in the orchestra at the Odéon, just as he was picking up his cornet."

"Why do they insist on my being nothing but an ingénue?" inquired Nanteuil, who wanted to play the woman in love, the brilliant coquette, and every part a woman could play.

"That is quite natural," persisted Madame Doulce. "Comedy is an imitative art; and you imitate an art all the better for not feeling it yourself."

"Do not delude yourself, my child," said the doctor to Félicie. "Once an ingénue, always an ingénue. You are born an Angélique or a Dorine, a Célimène or a Madame Pernelle. On the stage, some women are always twenty, others are always thirty, others again are always sixty. As for you, Mademoiselle Nanteuil, you will always be eighteen, and you will always be an ingénue."

"I am quite content with my work," replied Nanteuil, "but you cannot expect me to play all ingénues with the same pleasure. There is one part, for example, which I long to play, and that is Agnès in L'école des femmes."

At the mere mention of the name of Agnès, the doctor murmured delightedly from among his cushions:

"Mes yeux ont-ils du mal pour en donner au monde?"

"Agnès, that's a part if you like!" exclaimed Nanteuil. "I have asked Pradel to give it me."

Pradel, the manager of the theatre, was an ex-comedian, a wideawake, genial fellow, who had got rid of his illusions and nourished no exaggerated hopes. He loved peace, books and women. Nanteuil had every reason to speak well of Pradel, and she referred to him without any feeling of ill will, and with frank directness.

Read Now
A Mummer's Tale

A Mummer's Tale

Anatole France
The scene was an actress's dressing-room at the Odéon. Félicie Nanteuil, her hair powdered, with blue on her eyelids, rouge on her cheeks and ears, and white on her neck and shoulders, was holding out her foot to Madame Michon, the dresser, who was fitting on a pair of little black sli
Literature
Download the Book on the App
A Billionaire's Tale

A Billionaire's Tale

Bethel-Gold
Joan's life was shattered when her family's business crumbled, forcing her to work in a bakery to survive. Santiago, scarred by a bitter heartbreak, swore off love-until fate brought them together. They struck a deal; Joan would pretend to be Santiago's girlfriend, and in return, he'd help revive
Billionaires FamilyMysteryModernBetrayalLove triangleCEOAttractiveArrogant/Dominant
Download the Book on the App
A Tale of the Kloster

A Tale of the Kloster

Brother Jabez
A Tale of the Kloster by Brother Jabez
Literature
Download the Book on the App
Tale Of A Rejected Hybrid

Tale Of A Rejected Hybrid

Da_crazypen
"Do you think you are worthy of being mated to the Alpha's son? Huh?" Emily said to me as she looked down at me, with disgust. My mate's arm wound around her waist, showing his decision. I was rejected cruelly while my mate succumbed to Emily's charms. I was hurt and slowly dying, inwardly. I was
Fantasy R18+MysteryModernFantasyBetrayalRevengeAttractiveAlphaArrogant/DominantKickass Heroine
Download the Book on the App
Everlasting Adoration : A Romantic Tale

Everlasting Adoration : A Romantic Tale

Gbenga Daniel
Everlasting Adoration : A Romantic tale He remained adjacent to her bed and gazed at her face in keep thinking about whether it's genuine. A grin showed up all the rage seeing her vacillating eyelashes as she was awakening. Nonetheless, her response was not the same as what he had anticipated. " Pak
Romance R18+SuspenseFantasyBetrayalFirst loveCEOAttractive
Download the Book on the App
Corleone: A Tale of Sicily

Corleone: A Tale of Sicily

F. Marion Crawford
This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preservin
Literature
Download the Book on the App
A Tale of a Lonely Parish

A Tale of a Lonely Parish

F. Marion Crawford
A Tale of a Lonely Parish by F. Marion Crawford
Literature
Download the Book on the App
A Tale of Two Cities

A Tale of Two Cities

Charles Dickens
A Tale of Two Cities (1859) is a novel by Charles Dickens, set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution. With well over 200 million copies sold, it is among the most famous works of fiction. The novel depicts the plight of the French peasantry demoralized by the French aristocrac
Modern
Download the Book on the App
Mary Anerley: A Yorkshire Tale

Mary Anerley: A Yorkshire Tale

R. D. Blackmore
Take a trip back in time to nineteenth-century Yorkshire in this emotionally engaging tale from British author R.D. Blackmore. Mary Anerley follows the life of the protagonist of the same name as she faces down the challenges of coming of age in an isolated rural environment.
Literature
Download the Book on the App
A Tale of Red Pekin

A Tale of Red Pekin

Constancia Serjeant
A Tale of Red Pekin by Constancia Serjeant
Literature
Download the Book on the App

Trending

DEPTH OF PAIN Pandora The Brothers CEO VULNERABILITY The Nine Monarchs Beyond The Veil THE BRUTAL MATING
A Tale of Two Hearts

A Tale of Two Hearts

Bosun
Ivy Taylor is unique in the lavish world of London's high society, where scandals and old money rule supreme. As the daughter of a self-made millionaire who loves poetry and painting, she is accustomed to feeling alienated from the elite. But one fateful night at a grand gala changes everything when
Romance CrimeSuspenseBetrayalLove triangleSchemingAttractiveArranged marriage
Download the Book on the App
A Tale Of Dark Lust

A Tale Of Dark Lust

Meril June
"If you will not let me go then I will free myself from this painful life. If leaving the palace is not an option then there is always an option of death and I have chosen it". - Isabelle "Till now you have seen my love but now you will see the wrath of King Eric Leonor. I tried to be good to you b
Romance Forced loveSexual slaveRoyalty Arrogant/DominantMediaevalRomance
Download the Book on the App
Stella Fregelius: A Tale of Three Destinies

Stella Fregelius: A Tale of Three Destinies

H. Rider Haggard
H. Rider Haggard was an English author known for adventure novels set in exotic locations.  Haggard is considered to be one of the first writers of the Lost World genre.  Haggard's novel She: A History of Adventure is a first-person narrative of 2 men in a lost kingdom.
Literature
Download the Book on the App
The Point Of Honor: A Military Tale

The Point Of Honor: A Military Tale

Joseph Conrad
According to Wikipedia: "Joseph Conrad (1857 – 1924) was a Polish-born English novelist. Many critics regard him as one of the greatest novelists in the English language—a fact that is remarkable, as he did not learn to speak English fluently until he was in his twenties (and always with
Literature
Download the Book on the App
Black Rock: A Tale of the Selkirks

Black Rock: A Tale of the Selkirks

Ralph Connor
I think I have met Ralph Conner. Indeed, I am sure I have - once in a canoe on the Red River, once on the Assinaboine, and twice or thrice on the prairies to the West. That was not the name he gave me, but, if I am right, it covers one of the most honest and genial of the strong characters that ar
Literature
Download the Book on the App
The Tale of a Security Guard

The Tale of a Security Guard

Half City Fox
Who said a security guard could not make it? A mysterious man made a big splash in the world. He fought his way to the top as well as won ladies' hearts.
Modern MysteryModernRevengeConcealing identityPlayboyMultilinear narration
Download the Book on the App
Ben-Hur; a tale of the Christ

Ben-Hur; a tale of the Christ

Lew Wallace
This is a saga of a reverent journey by Judah Ben-Hur through reprisal, torment, affliction, and devout illumination to the revelation of Christianity. Ben-Hur grew up in a Roman-occupied Palestine as a wealthy young Jew whose family is respected of the citizenry but whose friend, Massala, a Roman w
Literature
Download the Book on the App
Revenge: A Tale of Love and Deception

Revenge: A Tale of Love and Deception

shuyu
I discovered my husband was cheating on me through his WhatsApp profile picture. The other person is wealthy and powerful, publicly assaulted me, and caused me to lose my job, ultimately making it impossible for me to stand in the industry! I pretended to compromise, taking careful steps, and slowly
Modern SweetRomanceTransactional love
Download the Book on the App
The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today

The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today

Mark Twain
First published in 1873, The Gilded Age is both a biting satire and a revealing portrait of post-Civil War America--an age of corruption, of national optimism, and of crooked land speculators, ruthless bankers, and dishonest politicians voraciousiy taking advantage of that new optimism.
Literature
Download the Book on the App
Clotelle: A Tale of the Southern States

Clotelle: A Tale of the Southern States

William Wells Brown
William Wells Brown was a prominent African-American abolitionist lecturer, novelist, playwright, and historian in the United States.
Literature
Download the Book on the App

Trending

A God’s Tale novel read online freeA God’s Tale pdf free downloadA God’s Tale epub vk downloadA God’s Tale amazon kindleA God’s Tale novel reddit
Read it on MoboReader now!
Open
close button

A God’s Tale

Discover books related to A God’s Tale on MoboReader. Read more free books online about A God’s Tale novel read online free,A God’s Tale pdf free download,A God’s Tale epub vk download.