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Miss Starbrow clenched her hands and uttered a little cry. Her face had become white, and she turned away from the girl. Presently she sat down, and said in a strangely altered voice, "Tell me, Fan, did you take some jewels from my dressing-table a brooch and three rings, and some other things?"
After all, Maurice might have asked her again. He danced a great deal with Mrs. Bethune towards the end of the evening, and how charming he looked when dancing! She rests her arms soft, naked arms, round and white as a child's upon the dressing-table and wonders. Wonders if that old story the story her mother-in-law had told her of Maurice and Mrs. Bethune was really true.
"Oh, not a sergent-de-ville, monsieur, I beg of you. I should be disgraced." "No. It shall be a man in plain clothes, to see that you are not hindered by reporters on the way." Hanaud turned towards the door. On the dressing-table a cord was lying. He took it up and spoke to the nurse. "Was this the cord with which Helene Vauquier's hands were tied?" "Yes, monsieur," she replied.
About this time I began to know without being taught and without expressing it in words, that there is a natural law of environment which makes us grow like the company we keep. During the first six months of my stay in De Chaumont's house Doctor Chantry was my sole companion. I looked anxiously into the glass on my dressing-table, dreading to see a reflection of his pettiness.
A bright fire glowed in the rusty grate, and two candles burned on the dressing-table. "It's Mrs. Forsyth's own room, and the best in the house," the old caretaker assured the girl. "Musker has been telling you about the old Thurstons. He's main proud of them, but you needn't fear them it's long since the last one walked. You have a kind heart, and nothing evil dare hurt you. See!
Through the dimness of the room glowed brightly the vivid and various colourings of the wall, in all the dazzling frescoes of Pompeian taste. Before the dressing-table, and under the feet of Julia, was spread a carpet, woven from the looms of the East.
She would not sink out of life in three hours...and Justine could not count on more than that. She looked at the little travelling-clock on the dressing-table, and saw that its hands marked four. An hour had passed already.... She rose and administered the prescribed restorative; then she took the pulse, and listened to the beat of the heart. Strong still too strong!
Had it not been one of her New England collection? Foreknowledge of it had emboldened her to rebuke her lover when she met him by the Bishopsgate and yet it had been a surprise and a sweet novelty to her when she had found it on her dressing-table the night before. At length she turned slowly from the window and said softly: "Guy's a good fellow, and I'm a lucky girl!"
Craig switched on the light and looked about hastily and keenly. For a moment he stood before a dressing-table on which were several toilet articles. A jewel-case seemed to attract his attention, and he opened it. Inside were some comparatively trifling trinkets. The thing that caused him to exclaim, however, was a necklace, broken and unstrung. I looked, too.
Haswell sat before the cheval glass of her dressing-table. Her dark hair, loosened now from its coils, cascaded abundantly over her white shoulders. She was thinking, and the charmingly chiseled lips and brow here in the privacy of her own room wore a rather calculating and somewhat satisfied smile. No note of contrition or self-accusation marred their serenity.
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