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Updated: May 17, 2025
He's a fine fellow and is ready to do anything for Rose Andree. He's right. A man must do anything for the woman he loves. He must devote himself to her, offer her all that is beautiful in this world: joy and happiness ... and, if she should be bored, stirring adventures to distract her, to excite her and to make her smile ... or even weep."
While the two were now turned away towards the Kismet, Andree came to Delia. She did not quite know how to comfort her, but she was a woman, and perhaps a supporting arm would do something. "There, there," she said, passing a hand round her shoulder, "you are all right now. Don't cry!" With a gasp of horror, Delia got to her feet, but swayed, and fell fainting into Andree's arms.
Three days elapsed, and nothing was heard of her. On the fourth her corpse was found floating in the Seine, * near the shore which is opposite the Quartier of the Rue Saint Andree, and at a point not very far distant from the secluded neighborhood of the Barrière du Roule. I can call to mind no similar occurrence producing so general and so intense an effect.
The other had everything in her favour; what had Andree the gipsy girl, or Mademoiselle Victorine, the dompteuse? One Sunday evening, after dining together, she asked him to take her to see Saracen. It was a long-standing promise. She had never seen him riding; for their hours did not coincide until the late afternoon or evening. Taking Annette, they went to his new apartments.
He caught the dash of the dark, piercing eyes, the luminous look, the face unpainted in its own natural colour: neither hot health nor paleness, but a thing to bear the light of day. "Andree the gipsy!" he exclaimed in a low tone. In less than two years this! Here was fame.
"Nerves, all nerves, Mr. Belward," he said, turning towards Gaston. "But, then, it was ticklish-ticklish." They did not shake hands. Gaston was looking at Delia, and he did not reply. Mr. Gasgoyne continued: "Nasty sea coming on afraid to try Point du Raz. Of course we didn't know you were here." He looked at Andree curiously. He was struck by the girl's beauty and force.
I thanked him, and told him to help me into the carriage, and he drove me back to the Château; but he nearly upset us in turning into the gate!" "Oh! Andrée! And is that all?..." "That is all...." "You did not faint more than that once?" "Only once, of course! I did not want to take such a fellow for my lover." "Did you keep him long after that?" "Yes, of course. I have him still.
Now they've killed him!" "Oh, it isn't possible!" "We shall see. But, whether he's dead or alive, it's death to Rose Andree. How are we to trace her? And what chance have we of finding the place some inaccessible retreat where the poor thing is dying of misery and starvation?" The detectives and peasants had moved away, bearing Dalbreque with them on an improvised stretcher.
The lifeboat would be of little use: besides, it could not arrive for some time. Gaston had recognised the Kismet. He turned to Andree. "There's danger, but perhaps we can do it. Will you go?" She flushed. "Have I ever been a coward, Gaston? Tell me what to do." "Keep the helm firm, and act instantly on my orders."
Of all attempts to reach the pole, the most daring was that adopted by S. A. Andree, a Swedish explorer. Andree had been to the polar regions before, and being something of an aeronaut, believed that he could reach or pass over the pole in a balloon.
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