"No," said Serpuhovskoy, frowning with vexation at being suspected of such an absurdity. "Tout ça est une blague.
Leo Tolstoy. Anna Karenina (Translated by Constance Garnett)
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Tut, tut! cries Le Fecondateur [...] is my authority that in Cape Horn, ventre biche, they have a rain that will wet through any, even the stoutest cloak. A drenching of that violence, he tells me, sans blague, has sent more than one luckless fellow in good earnest posthaste to another world.