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They take the house under this condition. 'A Bluebeard's cupboard, said Clare delightedly. 'Why, this is most interesting. I am longing to take the house now. 'That is indeed a woman's speech, said a voice behind her, and a tall broad-shouldered man laid his hand gently on her shoulder. Clare turned round, with a pretty pink colour in her cheeks. 'Oh, Hugh, is it you?
Kendal's study, which was always kept locked up, and there she had found something which had distressed her so much that she had gone to Mr. Dusautoy, and by his advice had fled from home to the protection of her brother in Canada. 'Without waiting for Bluebeard's asking for the key! Oh, Maria! cried Albinia, in a fit of laughter, while Sophia sat up on the sofa in speechless indignation.
"We call him 'Sister Anne. You know she was the lady in Bluebeard's yarn that kept looking out the window. He is always sticking his head out of the trenches, to see what he can see. He's going to get his some day." "Don't you know his real name?" asked Velo. "He acts as though he thought he was somebody of importance."
Montressor came sweeping down the hall in haste and, catching me by the arm, pulled me back as roughly as if it had been Bluebeard's chamber itself into which I was venturing. Then, seeing my face, which I doubt not was startled enough, she seemed to repent of her haste and patted me gently on the head. "There, there, little Beatrice! Did I frighten you, child?
"No," said Cleveland, "for a wonder it was male, and not lady-like curiosity that trespassed on Bluebeard's chamber. But, however, to soften your resentment, know that Miss Cameron has brought you a purchaser for Burleigh. Now, then, we can test the sincerity of your wish to part with it. I assure you, meanwhile, that Miss Cameron was as much shocked at the idea as I was. Were you not?"
This mastery of a fellow creature was by far the most engrossing pastime life had offered her. There was something about him, a suggestion of depths hidden and shut away from her that filled her with the venturesome curiosity of Fatima opening the cupboards in Bluebeard's castle.
No plaintive sounds, no monotonous murmurs, no shutting of windows and doors at strange hours, as if something or somebody were coming in or going out, or there was something to be hidden in those dark mahogany presses. Is there an inner apartment that I have not seen? The way in which the house is built might admit of it. As I thought it over, I at once imagined a Bluebeard's chamber.
I lingered in the long passage to which this led, separating the front and back rooms of the third storey: narrow, low, and dim, with only one little window at the far end, and looking, with its two rows of small black doors all shut, like a corridor in some Bluebeard's castle. While I paced softly on, the last sound I expected to hear in so still a region, a laugh, struck my ear.
"Now, remember, no stealing of keys and peering into Bluebeard's closet," said Dicky gayly, as he closed and locked the door of his room. "You flatter yourself, sir." I swept him a low bow. "I really haven't the slightest curiosity about your old room." "Sour grapes," he mocked, and then impressively, "And no matter what packages or furniture come here for me they are not to be unwrapped.
I secretly called upon the name of Marriott with fervency, and I looked round with more anxiety than ever Bluebeard's wife, or 'Anne, sister Anne! looked to see if any body was coming: nothing was to be seen but the grass blown by the wind no Marriott to throw herself toute eploree between the combatants no peace-officers to bind us over to our good behaviour no deliverance at hand; and Mrs.
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