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Updated: June 6, 2025
"It is you," the older man declared, "who play the fool, and we will not have it! Mademoiselle Idiale is a Servian and a patriot. She is the friend, too, of Bellamy, the Englishman. She and he were together last night." "Bellamy is not even on the train," Von Behrling protested. "He went north to Berlin. That itself is the proof that they know nothing.
"If it is Mademoiselle Idiale," Laverick directed, "I must see her directly she arrives. How are you, Shepherd?" he added, nodding to the waiter as he passed towards his room. "Come in, will you? You've got your certificates all right?" Mr. James Shepherd had the air of a man with whom prosperity had not wholly agreed.
"As a matter of fact," he declared, "I certainly have no idea of carrying it about with me. On the other hand, I shall part with it to no one. I might discuss the matter with Mademoiselle Idiale as soon as she is recovered. I am not disposed I mean no offence, sir but I may say frankly that I am not disposed even to do as much with you."
"To tell you the truth, I am jealous. Mademoiselle Idiale looks at you all the time. Look at her now. Is she not beautiful?" There was no doubt about her beauty, but those who were criticising her and she was by far the most interesting person in the room thought her a little sad.
I am perfectly certain that Mademoiselle Idiale will see me, and that your master would wish her to do so." "I will take the risk, sir," the man decided, "but the orders I have received were stringent." He disappeared and was gone for several moments. When he came back he was accompanied by a pale-faced woman dressed in black, obviously a maid.
So this was the document which would probably reveal the secret of the murder in Crooked Friars' Alley! This was the document which Mademoiselle Idiale considered of so much more importance than the fortune represented by that packet of bank-notes! What did it all mean?
Lassen thereupon hung his hat upon a peg, removed his overcoat, straightened his white tie with the aid of a looking-glass, brushed back his glossy black hair with the palms of his hands, and took the seat opposite Laverick. His first question was inevitable. "What do you think of the opera, sir?" "It is like Mademoiselle Idiale herself," Laverick answered. "It is above criticism." "She is," Mr.
"I think that if I leave you with the contents of your safe, it will be wise for you to hand me that document." "I am inclined to do so," Laverick admitted. "The very fact that you knew of its existence would seem to give you a sort of claim to it. But, Mademoiselle Idiale, will you answer me a few questions?" "I think," she said, "that it would be better if you asked me none."
"Will you tell Mademoiselle Idiale," he said, "that I will do myself the honor of coming to her at Luigi's restaurant. I have an engagement after the performance which I must keep." "You will certainly come?" Lassen asked anxiously. "Without a doubt," Laverick promised. Mr. Lassen took up his hat... "I will go and tell Mademoiselle.
I should have known better than to have doubted you for a moment. I know you so well, Louise. I know what you are." She smiled. "Dear," she said, "you have made me happy. And now you must go away. Remember that these few minutes are only an interlude. Over here I am Mademoiselle Idiale who sings to-night at Covent Garden. See my roses.
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