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"I will show you," said she; when, going to a closet, she took out another basin of coffee; and before I could dash it from her lips, as I had the former one from the black woman, the infatuated girl had swallowed a small portion of it. "What else can I do?" said she; "my happiness is gone for ever." "No, Carlotta," said I; "I do not wish for your death, though you have plotted mine.
Flora had already pointed out the door of the dungeon to which Carlotta had been consigned; and Piero hastened to call upon his mistress to answer him. It was a touching spectacle to behold that lawless and bold, bad man melting into tenderness beneath the influence of love!
Hope the hope of hearing the patter of a child's feet about my house, the hope of pride in a quasi-paternity, of handing on, vicariously though it were, the torch of life hope was dead and it was buried in a little white coffin. Only a great, quiet love remained. I was a tired old man, and Carlotta was to me an infinitely loved sister or daughter or granddaughter even so old did I feel.
"Such an appellation is anachronistic, incongruous, and infinitely absurd. I can't use it. I must take the liberty of addressing you as Carlotta." "But I've told you that Carlotta is my name," she said, in uncomprehending innocence. "And mine is Sir Marcus Ordeyne. People call me 'Sir Marcus." "Seer Marcous," said Carlotta.
She bowed assent, and together they passed out of the room through the French window. Miss Cressy stared after them, the bitter little smile still lingering on her lips. "Youth for Alan always," she said to herself. "Ah, well, I was young, too, those days in Paris. I must tell Carlotta to warn Tony. It would be a pity for the child to be tarnished so soon by touching his kind too close.
Carlotta and her father were alone. By this time Harrison Cressy had begun to show the authentic Midas touch. Only the little Carlotta stood between him and sheer, sordid money grubbing. And even she was an excuse for the getting of always more and more wealth.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her; she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate, sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic temperament highly developed, and that Viola was something or other else of a mould equally commonplace among children of that class and type in the twentieth century.
After a time Carlotta was removed to Belgium, where she has been since secluded from the world, but tenderly watched over by her relations. From time to time she partially recovers her reason. Matters in Mexico after her departure grew worse every day. Bazaine had received orders to withdraw all French troops from the country.
I have walked about for hours, laughing and cursing and kicking the binding loose of my precious Muratori. I have wondered whether the universe or I were mad. For there is one thing that is clear to me Carlotta is here, and here Carlotta must remain. Devastating though it be to the well-ordered quietude of my life, I must adopt Carlotta. There is no way out of it. May 25th.
She turned quickly and saw a stranger standing on the threshold regarding her with a rather disconcertingly intent gaze. He was very tall and foreign-looking, "different," as Carlotta had said, with thick, waving blue-black hair, a clear, olive skin and deep-set, gray-green eyes. There was nothing about him that suggested any resemblance to anyone she knew.
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