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Updated: September 14, 2025
Trust a woman to find a place where she can't ruin her hat. My word for it, Cecil, she's found a safe roost. I say, by Jove!" The duke was staring more intently than ever at the windows far above. "I have it! Isn't it rather odd that a house should be lighted so brilliantly at this hour of night?" "Demmed servants forgot to put out the lamps," groaned Bazelhurst without interest. "Nonsense!
I never would have thought of that....Marvellous, I call it... demmed marvellous.... What say you, gentlemen?... Your Royal Highness, what think you?... Is not my engaging friend here of a most original turn of mind.... Will you have this sword or that, Monsieur?... Nay, I must insist else we shall weary our friends if we hesitate too long.... This one then, sir, since you have chosen it," he continued, as Chauvelin finally took one of the swords in his hand.
"Marvellous, I call it... demmed marvellous," quoth Sir Percy blandly. Chauvelin had paused, half-choked by his own emotion, his hatred and prospective revenge. He passed his handkerchief over his forehead, which was streaming with perspiration. "Warm work, this sort of thing... eh... Monsieur... er... Chaubertin?..." queried his imperturbable enemy.
The demmed servants ouch! don't you know! Might have known. Silly ass! See what I mean? Get something for me quick!" For two hours Antoine applied hot water bags and soothing syrups, and his master, far from dying as he continually prophesied, dropped off into a peaceful sleep.
"And now for a bowl of punch.... Nay, Monsieur, 'twas demmed smart what you said just now... I must insist on your joining us in a bowl.... Such wit as yours, Monsieur, must need whetting at times. ... I pray you repeat that same sally again..." Then finally turning to the Prince and to his friends, he added: "And after that bowl, gentlemen, shall we rejoin the ladies?"
"A demmed adventurer, probably!" exclaimed the other. "I'd give a good deal to know his record," remarked the patroon, contemplatively. "You should be pretty well acquainted with the personnel of the army?" "It includes everybody nowadays," replied the diplomat. "I have a large acquaintance, but I am not a directory. A person who knows everybody usually knows nobody worth knowing!
He had caught the look which the latter had thrown on Armand, and knew that some explanation would have to pass between the two men before they parted to-night. Therefore he gave the signal for the breaking up of the meeting. "There is nothing more to say, is there, Blakeney?" he asked. "No, my good fellow, nothing," replied Sir Percy. "I do not know how you all feel, but I am demmed fatigued."
It contained a few lines scribbled in pencil just that foolish rhyme which to his fevered nerves was like a strong irritant, a poison which gave him an unendurable sensation of humiliation and impotence: "We seek him here, we seek him there! Chauvelin seeks him everywhere! Is he in heaven? Is he in hell? That demmed, elusive Pimpernel!"
"Interestin' evolution," remarked that Officer. "Demmed interestin'. May we have some more?" "Get on, Captain Rozario," implored Colonel Dearman. "Let's see some company-drill." "One hundred and twenty-five paces backward march," cried Captain Rozario after a brief calculation, and "G" Company reluctantly detached itself from the battalion, backwards.
"I am so demmed sorry . . ." he was saying cheerfully, "so very sorry . . . I seem to have upset you . . . eating soup, too . . . nasty, awkward thing, soup . . . er . . . Begad! a friend of mine died once . . . er . . . choked . . . just like you . . . with a spoonful of soup." And he smiled shyly, good-humouredly, down at Chauvelin.
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