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Updated: May 7, 2025
Susan did not kiss her, said good-night to Claude, and went quietly away. "What is it?" Claude said, directly she had gone. "What's the matter, Charmian? Why did Gillier go away so early?" "Let us go upstairs," she answered. Remembering the sound of her voice in the court, she strove to keep it natural, even gentle, now. Susan's recent touch had helped her a little. "All right," he answered.
Gillier was once more in Algeria. He had never given them a sign of life since he had tried to buy back his libretto from them. Now he wrote formally, saying he was paying a short visit to his family, and asking permission to call at Djenan-el-Maqui at any hour that would suit them. His note was addressed to Claude, who at once showed it to Charmian. "Of course we must let him come," Claude said.
Darkness was falling, and it was growing cold on this rocky height which frowned above the gorge of the Rummel. Neither Claude Heath nor Gillier appeared at dinner. Their absence was discussed by Mrs. Shiffney and her friends, and Mrs. Shiffney told them that she had seen Claude Heath that evening in a café. After dinner Henriette Sennier remarked discontentedly: "What are we going to do?"
And if anything helps, even lies from Madame Sennier, and the sly deceit of Gillier, I mean to welcome it. That's the only thing to do. Crayford is right. I didn't see it at first, but I see it now. It's no earthly use the artist trying to keep himself and his talent in cotton wool in these days.
"You must remember what a keen interest I have in everything that has to do with the opera." Gillier looked at her oddly, with a sort of furtive inquiry, she thought. Then he said formally: "I am delighted to stay, madame." During dinner he became more expansive, but Claude seemed to Charmian to become more constrained. Beneath his constraint excitement lay in hiding.
"What is it, Charmian?" answered Claude's voice from the distance. "I'm going to bed. It's late. Monsieur Gillier has gone." "Coming!" answered Claude's voice. Charmian retreated to the house. As she came into the drawing-room she looked at her watch. It was barely ten o'clock. In a moment Susan Fleet entered, followed by Claude. Susan's calm eyes glanced at Charmian's face.
Then she said, in her quiet, agreeable voice: "I'm going to my room. I have two or three letters to write, and I shall read a little before going to bed. It isn't really very late, but I daresay you are tired." She took Charmian's hand and held it for an instant. And during that instant Charmian felt much calmer. "Good-night, Susan dear. Monsieur Gillier asked me to say good-night to you for him."
"I say, I should like to see the libretto!" almost screamed Madame Sennier. "Probably it's one that Jacques refused." "No, it can't be." "What?" "No, it can't be. He never saw a libretto that was Algerian. And this one evidently is. I wonder if it's a good one." "Make him show it to you." "Gillier! He wouldn't. He hates us both." "Not Gillier, Claude Heath." "What?" Mrs.
But, of course, one sees that well, you are here in this delicious little house, having what the Americans call a lovely time, enjoying North Africa, listening to the fountain, walking, as my old baby says, among passion-flowers, and playing about with that joke from the Quartier Latin, Armand Gillier. Mais, ma chère, ce n'est pas sérieux!
"Charmian, I have this moment told you that I haven't." "She has read it." "Nonsense." "I am positive she has read it." "Then Gillier must have shown her a copy of it." Charmian was silent for a minute. Then she said: "You did not show it to anyone while you were at Constantine?" "I didn't say that." "Ah! You you let Mrs. Shiffney see it!" Her voice rose as she said the last words.
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