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Updated: May 2, 2025
"I did my best, w-without offending Gerald. Can you believe me?" "I know you did. . . . Don't mind what I said " "N-no, not now. . . . You do believe me, don't you?" "Yes, I do." "Thank you. . . . And, Phil, I will try to s-steer straight because you ask me." "You must." "I will. . . . It is good to be here. . . . I must not come again, must I?" "Not again, Alixe." "On your account?"
Ruthven's motor moved up from its waiting station; Rosamund was quite ready to enter when Alixe said cordially: "Where can we drop you, dear? Do let us take you to the exchange if you are going there " Now Rosamund had meant to go wherever they were going, merely because they evidently wished to be alone. The abruptness of the check both irritated and amused her.
And I long for a quite simple shrine to cleanse my soul before. A white little soul hidden away in peace, and sitting smiling over her sewing of small garments is worth making a pilgrimage to. Do you remember the childish purity of her eyelids? I want to see them dropped down as she sews. I want to see her." "Alixe and her children would have been your shrine." The Duchess thought it out slowly.
The silence which followed the mournful voluntary played by the organ was most painful to me. At that moment a figure stepped from behind a pillar, and gave Alixe a deep, scrutinizing look. It was Doltaire. He was graver than I had ever seen him, and was dressed scrupulously in black, with a little white lace showing at the wrists and neck.
As a wild Communard soldier he had risked his life vainly to save the aged Colonel Delavigne from a furious mob, for the red rosette in the old officer's buttonhole had cost him his life in an awkward promenade, and this sent the orphans, Valerie and Alixe Delavigne, adrift upon the mad maelstrom of Paris incendie.
She stood with pretty golden head bent, absently arranging the sables around her neck and shoulders. "I have been very horrid to Captain Selwyn," she said quietly. "Tell him I am sorry; that he has my respect. . . . And if he cares to tell me where Alixe is I shall be grateful and do no harm."
I rose to meet my visitor, and as I took his hand I saw Gabord catch Alixe by the sleeve and hurry her out with a whispered word, swinging the door behind her as she passed. Then he stuck the torch in the wall, went out, shut and bolted the dungeon door, and left us two alone. I was glad that Alixe's safety had been assured, and my greeting of her father was cordial.
He laughed, a dry, ironical laugh. "I have both an enthusiasm and a purpose," he answered, "or you would by now be snug in bed forever." I knew what he meant, though he could not guess I understood. He was referring to Alixe and the challenge she had given him.
I determined to write to my dear Alixe the true history of my life, even to the point and after of this thing which now was bringing me to so ill a pass. But I was in darkness, I had no paper, pens, nor ink. After a deal of thinking I came at last to the solution. I would compose the story, and learn it by heart, sentence by sentence, as I so composed it.
Too, the interview with Alixe Ruthven had not only knocked all complacency and conceit out of him, but had made him so self-distrustful that he was in a mood to listen respectfully to his peers on any question. He was wondering now whether Boots had recognised Alixe when he had blundered into the room that night. He had never asked the question; he was very much inclined to, now.
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