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Updated: June 9, 2025
But now we are sure that we shall have the money for Albert de Chantonnay's Beauvoir estate by the middle of January. The death of Madame la Duchesse was a misfortune. If we could have persuaded her to receive you your face would have done the rest, mon ami we should have been invincible. But she was broken, that poor lady. Think of her life!
"And in the mean time," purred the voice of the Abbe Touvent, "for the digestion, Monsieur le Marquis for the digestion." For it was one of the features of Madame de Chantonnay's Thursdays that no servants were allowed in the room; but the guests waited on each other.
Which playful allusion to Albert de Chantonnay's pretensions was received by their object with a calm indifference. "When Jean returns," she said, practically, "I will send him to you at the Bremonts' cottage with food and clothing. But you must not attempt to communicate with us. You would only betray your whereabouts and do no good to us. We shall be quite safe in the chateau.
But when they entered Madame de Chantonnay's drawing-room when Dormer, impelled by some instinct of the fitness of things, stepped aside and motioned to his companion to pass in first the secret they had in common yawned suddenly like a gulf between them. For the possession of a secret either estranges or draws together. More commonly, it estranges.
It was, in fact, Madame de Chantonnay's Thursday evening to which were bidden such friends as enjoyed for the moment her fickle good graces. The Abbe Touvent was, so to speak, a permanent subscriber to these favours. The Abbe bustled about, drawing cards and tables nearer to the lamps, away from the draught of the door, not too near the open wood fire.
And while I am still trying to gather information the man comes back to me. 'It is not the people you have to fear, he whispers in my ear, 'it is the Government. The order for your arrest is at the Gendarmerie, for it was I who took it there. Monsieur Albert was arrested yesterday, and is now in La Rochelle. Madame de Chantonnay's house is guarded. It is from Madame I come. And again he goes.
But when they entered Madame de Chantonnay's drawing-room when Dormer, impelled by some instinct of the fitness of things, stepped aside and motioned to his companion to pass in first the secret they had in common yawned suddenly like a gulf between them. For the possession of a secret either estranges or draws together. More commonly, it estranges.
"The skin, madame?" inquired the Abbe Touvent, with that gentle and cackling humour in which the ordained of any Church may indulge after a good dinner. The Abbe Touvent had, as a matter of fact, been Madame de Chantonnay's most patient listener through the months of suspense that followed Loo Barebone's sudden disappearance.
"The skin, madame?" inquired the Abbe Touvent, with that gentle and cackling humour in which the ordained of any Church may indulge after a good dinner. The Abbe Touvent had, as a matter of fact, been Madame de Chantonnay's most patient listener through the months of suspense that followed Loo Barebone's sudden disappearance.
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