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The Queen, less woman now than Queen, enraged by the information got he knew not how, had come at once to punish the gross breach of her orders and a dark misconduct-so he thought. The Queen's look, as she turned it on Angele, apparently had in it what must have struck terror to even a braver soul than that of the helpless Huguenot girl. "So it is thus you spend the hours of night?
The Queen knows on what rock to build, as I made warrant for her, and will still do so." His vanity was incorrigible, but through it ran so child-like a spirit that it bred friendship and repulsed not. The Duke's Daughter pressed the arm of Angele, who replied: "Indeed it has been so according to your word, and we are I am shall ever be beholden.
All unsuspecting she gave herself to the embrace of a strange pair of arms, and Vanamee arriving but a score of moments later, stumbled over her prostrate body, inert and unconscious, in the shadow of the overspiring trees. Who was the Other? Angele was carried to her home on the Seed ranch, delirious, all but raving, and Vanamee, with knife and revolver ready, ranged the country-side like a wolf.
Now, Mademoiselle, attend." "There is not so much for me to say," said the sick man, pressing Pauline's hand with wistful entreaty, "as there is from me to hear from you yourself. I have confessed my fault, my sin, and yet, not my sin, Pauline. Angele is my child, by Artémise Archambault, as you have always known, but she is more, she is my daughter, legitimately begotten, in proper wedlock.
"Tell me all about him, won't you, Madame Angele? I want to hear you tell it," I added hastily, for I saw that she would despise me if I showed ignorance of Mathurin's story. Her sympathy with Mathurin's memory was real, but her pleasure at the compliment I paid her was also real. "Ah! It was ver' longtime ago yes. My gran'mudder she remember dat Mathurin ver' well. He is not ver' big man.
Left alone, the two ladies seated themselves in the bower of roses, and for a moment were silent. Presently the Duke's Daughter laughed aloud. "In what seas of dear conceit swims your leviathan Seigneur, heart's-ease?" Angele stole a hand into the cool palm of the other. "He was builded for some lonely sea all his own. Creation cheated him.
We had taken on the wives of some of the men, among them Angéle, the pretty wife of one of the French chauffeurs, and her two-months-old baby into the bargain. We still had two cars, that, at a pinch, would carry the party, and we still had one mount in case of necessity. The question arose as to whether we should break up and make for the nearest port while we could, or "stick it out."
The girl had charmed the Queen, had, by saving her life, made England her long debtor; but Leicester had judged rightly in believing that the Queen might find the debt irksome; that her gratitude would be corroded by other destructive emotions. It was true that Angele had saved her life, but Michel had charmed her eye.
There was a little Calvary down by the riverside, where the flax-beaters used to say their prayers in the intervals of their work; and it was just at the foot of this that Angele Rouvier, having finished her prayer, put her rosary in her pocket, wiped her eyes with the hem of her petticoat, and said to me: "Ah, dat poor Mathurin, I wipe my tears for him!"
"But me," she pursued with shrill vivacity "I shan't go yet, I'm not drunk enough by half. Get more champagne, Fred" this to Le Brun as she turned a gleaming shoulder to the others "quantities of it and tell Chu-chu to bring Angele over, and Constance and Victor, too. Thanks to the good God, they at least know they are still alive!"
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