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Updated: May 15, 2025
No, my friend, you know the French rule; well, follow that, and search for the lady with the gold-mesh bag." "The lady without it, at present," I said, with an apologetic smile for my rather grim jest. "Yes; and that's the difficulty. As she hasn't the bag, we can't discover her. So as a clue it is worthless." "It seems to be," I agreed. I thought best not to tell Mr.
I was rather ashamed of them, for Americans are punctilious in such matters; and now that I think of it, one of the ladies was carrying a gold-mesh bag." "Who was she?" I asked, hardly daring to hope that I had really struck the trail. "I can't seem to remember her name, but perhaps it will come to me. It was rather an English type of name, something like Coningsby." "Where did she live?"
The people of this country need to have their patriotism tickled." "All my life, Harry, I've wanted a gold-mesh bag with a row of sapphires and diamonds across the top " "I'm going to make it the kind of show that 'Dixie' was a song " "And a gold-colored bird-of-paradise for a black-velvet hat, all my life, Harry " "With Alma Zitelle in the part "
As I watched Florence Lloyd I saw that her eyes did not turn toward the coroner, or toward her fiance, or toward the jury, but she looked straight at Louis, the valet, as she replied in clear tones, "I did not." "Is this yours?" asked Mr. Monroe, suddenly whisking into sight the gold-mesh bag. Probably his intent had been to startle her, and thus catch her off her guard.
Then on deck she stopped, opening her gold-mesh bag, in order to take out the little glass and powder box. In the beveled edge of the oval glass she saw the faun-like countenance of Toni hovering behind her with glances of impatience. "Tell Captain Ferragut that I shall never trouble him again.... All has ended.... Perhaps he may hear me spoken of some time, but he will never see me again."
"I have been intending to do so, and shall get one shortly, but I haven't yet selected it." "And in the meantime you have been getting along without any?" "A gold-mesh bag is not an indispensable article; I have several bags of other styles, and I'm in no especial haste to purchase a new one." Miss Lloyd's manner had taken on several degrees of hauteur, and her voice was incisive in its tone.
The sailor began to feel the nervous disquietude which a difficult situation creates. "Ferragut, pay and let us go," she said, divining his state of mind. While Ulysses was giving money to the waiters and musicians, she dried her eyes and repaired the ravages to her complexion, drawing from her gold-mesh bag a powder puff and little mirror in whose oval she contemplated herself for a long time.
"Here's the clue," said Parmelee's voice, as he grasped my arm and turned me in another direction. He pointed to a glittering article on the large desk. It was a woman's purse, or bag, of the sort known as "gold-mesh." Perhaps six inches square, it bulged as if overcrowded with some feminine paraphernalia. "It's Miss Lloyd's," went on Parmalee. "She lives here, you know Mr. Crawford's niece.
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