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Updated: July 11, 2025


"Any one would have said you were twin brothers." "It gave me quite a shock the first time I saw his portrait," said Lupin. "You remember, Charolais? It was three years ago, the day, or rather the night, of the first Gournay-Martin burglary at Charmerace. Do you remember?" "Do I remember?" said Charolais. "It was I who pointed out the likeness to you.

On each was printed: "M. Gournay-Martin has the honour to inform you of the marriage of his daughter Germaine to the Duke of Charmerace." She wrote steadily on, adding envelope after envelope to the pile ready for the post, which rose in front of her.

Sonia raised the flap of the bureau, and taking from one of the drawers a small portfolio, turned over the papers in it and handed a letter to the Duke. "This is the envelope," she said. "It's addressed to M. Gournay-Martin, Collector, at the Chateau de Charmerace, Ile-et-Vilaine." The Duke opened the envelope and took out a letter. "It's an odd handwriting," he said.

But his health is quite restored now." The door opened and the millionaire and the Duke came into the room. M. Gournay-Martin set his bag upon the table, unlocked it, and with a solemn air took out the case which held the coronet. He opened it; and they looked at it. "Isn't it beautiful?" he said with a sigh. "Marvellous!" said the Duke.

"I don't think, myself, that I'm going to be gladdened by the sight of him in fact, I'm ready to bet against it. But you're all so certain about it that I really must stay on the chance. And, after all, there's no doubt that he's a man of immense audacity and ready to take any risk." "Well, at any rate, if he does come he won't find the diadem," said M. Gournay-Martin, in a tone of triumph.

He was looking depressed, even exhausted, the shadow of the blusterous Gournay-Martin of the day before. The rich rosiness of his cheeks had faded to a moderate rose-pink. "That telegram," moaned the millionaire. "It was the last straw. It has overwhelmed me. The coronet is lost." "What, already?" said the Duke, in a tone of the liveliest surprise.

The petulant, imperious voice broke in upon her musing. "Whatever are you doing, Sonia? Aren't you getting on with those letters?" it cried angrily; and Germaine Gournay-Martin came through the long window into the hall. The heiress to the Gournay-Martin millions carried her tennis racquet in her hand; and her rosy cheeks were flushed redder than ever by the game.

And I should like to have on a pair of boots that were a trifle less muddy," he said slowly. M. Gournay-Martin sat up with a jerk and cried, "For Heaven's sake, don't you go and desert me, my dear chap! You don't know what my nerves are like!" "Oh, you've got that sleuth-hound, Guerchard, and the splendid Formery, and four other detectives, and half a dozen ordinary policemen guarding you.

I suppose that, as the fiance of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin, you are familiar with the house?" "What on earth " said M. Formery. "Excuse me," interrupted Guerchard. "But this is important very important." "Yes, there is a cat," said the Duke. "I've seen a cat at the door of the concierge's rooms."

I have two pieces of news to announce to you: the death of the Duke of Charmerace, who died three years ago, and my intention of becoming engaged to his cousin and heir, M. de Relzieres, who will assume the title and the arms." "For Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin," "Her maid, IRMA." "She does write in shocking bad taste," said Lupin, shaking his head sadly.

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