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Updated: June 1, 2025
"As long as you stay in Petersburg you stay in these rooms," replied the other, gravely. Cartoner nodded his thanks and sat down. Their attitude towards each other had the repose which is only existent in a friendship that has lasted since childhood. "Well?" he inquired. "Gad!" exclaimed the other, "we are in a queer way. I went to the opera the other evening.
"You mean," said the prince, suddenly roused to anger, "that Martin and I are put upon our good behavior that our lives are safe only so long as we are not seen speaking to Cartoner, or are not suspected of having any communication with him." And Kosmaroff was silent. He had ceased eating, and had laid aside his knife and fork.
She was telling Cartoner, who sat next to her, a gay little story, connected with some piece of steamer gossip known only to himself and her. Is it not an accepted theory that quiet men like best those girls who are lively?
But he had learned nothing from Cartoner. Of that, at least, she was sure. "Happiness, or a hope of happiness," he went on, reflectively. "Perhaps one is as valuable as the other. Perhaps they are the same thing. If you gain a happiness you lose a hope, remember that. It is not always remembered by women, and very seldom by men." "Is it so precious? It is common enough, at all events."
Cartoner sat at one of the outside tables, where the hydrangeas, as large as a black currant bush, are ranged in square green boxes against the city wall. He was thoughtfully sipping his coffee when a man crawled between his legs and hid himself like a sick dog between Cartoner's chair and the hydrangea trees.
"Yes, they are pretty," answered Netty, making a little movement to show the flowers to greater advantage to Deulin and to Cartoner also. Her waist was very round and slender. "They came from that shop in the Senatorska or the Wirzbowa, I forget, quite, which street. Ulrich, I think, was the name." And she apparently desired to let the subject drop there. "Yes," said Deulin, slowly.
Can tell you, Cartoner, it would not suit my book at all to get into trouble in Warsaw now." While he spoke he watched the shadows across the road. "Both have knives," he said, "but they cannot get near me. Stay where you are." "All right," said Cartoner. "Haven't had a chance yet."
And he looked at Netty with his fierce smile, as if to warn her against this danger. "My country," he went on, "didn't take a hand in that deal. Bit out of breath and dizzy, as a young man would be that had had to fight his own father and whip him." And he bobbed his head apologetically towards Cartoner, as representing the other side in that great misunderstanding.
He carefully avoided passing near Cartoner, as if too close a proximity might make him forget himself. "I will tell you one thing," he said, in a hard, low voice. "It will not do for you to show your face in Poland. Don't ever forget that I will take any chance I get to kill you! There is not room for you and me in Poland!" "If I am sent there I shall go," replied Cartoner.
"Yes," said Cartoner, putting the dates carefully together in his mind. It seemed that the building of the Minnie was not the epoch upon which he reckoned his periods. "She's in Morrison's dry-dock now," said the captain, who in a certain way was like a young mother. For him all the topics were but a number of by-ways leading ultimately to the same centre. "You should go down and see her, Mr.
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