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Several of them easily fell into the humour of the thing, and I have seen him depart from a dinner-party followed by that glowering Sarah, with a handful of rosebuds and violets, to say nothing of the traditional offerings of slippers, embroidered markers and the like. Well, it was my only way of coming even with her, which I think she knew, for she hated me poisonously. So much for Basil Bastin.
"If he should, how is he to know where we are gone?" "True," answered Basil, reflecting a moment. "Oh!" he continued, "give me your paper and pencil. You tie Jeanette while I write." Lucien handed him a small slip of paper with a pencil; and then proceeded to tie the mule securely to one of the branches. Basil took the paper and wrote: "Francois, we are gone upon your trail. Stay by Jeanette."
Basil Valentine was born at Mayence, and was made prior of St. Peter's, at Erfurt, about the year 1414. It was known, during his life, that he diligently sought the philosopher's stone, and that he had written some works upon the process of transmutation.
I wasn't born in Boston, but I understand how you feel. And really, my dear," he added, without irony, "I never seriously thought of asking you to go to New York. I was dazzled by Fulkerson's offer, I'll own that; but his choice of me as editor sapped my confidence in him." "I don't like to hear you say that, Basil," she entreated. "Well, of course there were mitigating circumstances.
But that was perhaps because I couldn't have gone very well without you, and maybe " "I see! I'm to make myself scarce and leave you alone in the garden!" "Not yet, dear. Only when we hear the car actually stopping at the gate. There'll be plenty of time then. And if you don't mind " "Of course, I don't mind," said Basil.
"Well, then, you and I will go alone, Mr. Gray." "I should like that awfully." Basil Hallward bit his lip and walked over, cup in hand, to the picture. "I will stay with the real Dorian," he said, sadly. "Is it the real Dorian?" cried the original of the portrait, running across to him. "Am I really like that?" "Yes; you are just like that." "How wonderful, Basil!"
And then the gallant lieutenant saluted too. "You are, indeed," he said; and Phyllis turned to give Basil a parting smile. Crittenden followed them to the Colonel's tent, which had a raised floor and the good cheer of cigar-boxes, and of something under his cot that looked like a champagne-basket; and he smiled to think of Chaffee's Spartan-like outfit at Chickamauga.
One of them, in passing, gave him a smile, and said good-naturedly: 'Thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands; happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee. Weary, but with the sense of healthful fatigue, Basil rested for an hour on his bed.
So far as Mallow knew, the matter was at an end. He believed that Jennings had shelved the affair, and that no further inquiries would be made. This belief calmed his anxiety, as he greatly desired to save Basil Saxon from arrest. Certainly, the young scamp protested his innocence, and told a plausible tale, but he was such a liar that Mallow could not be satisfied.
With a contemptuous movement, he walked out of the office. As Basil Jerome left the office of Scott & Rand he came face to face with a thickset, florid-faced man and a slender, dark-eyed youth, who had just stepped from the elevator. "Howdy do, Mr. Jerome! Is it yourself?" said the man, with just the slightest hint of an Irish brogue. "It's a bit glum you're looking. Anything wrong?"
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