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Updated: June 5, 2025
The Baron's eyes not being turned in Gerfaut's direction, he could not tell whether he was the object of this espionage, or whether the lay of the land allowed him to see Madame de Bergenheim, who must be under the sycamores by this time.
Clemence drew herself up upon the divan, crossed her arms over her breast and gazed at him for a few moments in silence. "Do you believe these two sentiments incompatible?" she asked at last; "you are the only one whom I fear. Others would not complain." There was such irresistible charm in her voice and glance that Gerfaut's ill-humor melted away like ice in the sun's rays.
But he obtained no response to this mute and threatening supplication except a stupid smile and these stammering words: "Give me something to drink, Boleslas Marinski-Graboski I believe that Satan has lighted his heating apparatus within my stomach." The persons seated near the two friends heard an angry hiss from Gerfaut's lips.
But he obtained no response to this mute and threatening supplication except a stupid smile and these stammering words: "Give me something to drink, Boleslas Marinski-Graboski I believe that Satan has lighted his heating apparatus within my stomach." The persons seated near the two friends heard an angry hiss from Gerfaut's lips.
The greater part of them resembled in form the one that he possessed; some of them were in envelopes directed to Madame de Bergenheim and bore Gerfaut's crest. There was no doubt about the identity of the handwriting; if the Baron had had any, these proofs were enough.
Clemence drew herself up upon the divan, crossed her arms over her breast and gazed at him for a few moments in silence. "Do you believe these two sentiments incompatible?" she asked at last; "you are the only one whom I fear. Others would not complain." There was such irresistible charm in her voice and glance that Gerfaut's ill-humor melted away like ice in the sun's rays.
The Baron's eyes not being turned in Gerfaut's direction, he could not tell whether he was the object of this espionage, or whether the lay of the land allowed him to see Madame de Bergenheim, who must be under the sycamores by this time.
The greater part of them resembled in form the one that he possessed; some of them were in envelopes directed to Madame de Bergenheim and bore Gerfaut's crest. There was no doubt about the identity of the handwriting; if the Baron had had any, these proofs were enough.
He stopped, for his voice failed him, and his eyes filled with tears. "I know what I ought to do," replied the Baron, in as harsh a tone as Gerfaut's had been tender; "I am her husband, and I do not recognize anybody's right, yours least of all, to interpose between us."
The greater part of them resembled in form the one that he possessed; some of them were in envelopes directed to Madame de Bergenheim and bore Gerfaut's crest. There was no doubt about the identity of the handwriting; if the Baron had had any, these proofs were enough.
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