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Updated: May 3, 2025
She paused for a moment, and then, fixing her eye calmly upon her interrogator, in those clear and liquid tones which left their vibration upon the ear long after her voice was hushed in death, answered, "Roland! a name of which I am proud, for it is that of a good and an honorable man." "Do you know Achille Viard?" the president inquired. "I have once, and but once, seen him."
"Oh, yes, he hunts in his own county," replied Sylla. "You never saw him shoot, I suppose?" "No, he doesn't attend Hurlingham; that is to say, I mean he doesn't go in for pigeons. But why all these questions, Miss Sylla?" "Never mind; that's my secret. You may be sure it is intended for your good," laughed his interrogator. "In short, you never saw him ride, shoot, nor do any of those things."
The "most magnificent of blondes" looked first, approvingly, at her image displayed in the full length mirror opposite, then coolly at her interrogator. "Hum! that depends. The lady you so flatter can't abide dullness and inaction, and too much stupidity might overcome her natural timidity, in which case even my ardent old pursuer could not scare me into submission and banishment.
Sir Adrian, whose gaze is fixed upon the fair vision in the trailing white gown standing timidly in the door-way, forgets to answer his interrogator, and the others, taken by surprise, maintain a solemn silence. "Why this mystery?" demands Lady FitzAlmont sternly. "Where is the miscreant? Where is the man that fired that murderous shot?"
"And what are ye about, within the sweep of my hawse?" "Cutting the waves with my taffrail," returned Wilder, after a moment's hesitation. "What fool has broke adrift here!" muttered his interrogator. "Pass a blunderbuss forward, and let us see if a civil answer can't be drawn from the fellow."
"Don't exchange glances with him under my very nose, woman!" shrieked Mrs. Wood; "I'll not bear it. Look at me, and answer me one question. And, mind! no prevaricating nothing but the truth will satisfy me." Mrs. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. "Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust.
The Lord Keeper answered in the affirmative; but his interrogator was too well informed to be imposed upon.
"I could have understood, Rodman, if it had been Miss Dunlap. She is clever, wonderful. But that Leblanc never!" Sybil Brainard turned to Constance. "Miss Dunlap Mrs. Dunlap," she sobbed, "forgive me. You you are a better woman than I am." "Do you believe in dreams?" Constance Dunlap looked searchingly at her interrogator, as if her face or manner betrayed some new side of her character.
I'm always sitting and so glad to be moving about for five minutes... I suffer from my sedentary life... I always intend to join a gymnasium; they say that officials of all ranks, even Privy Councillors, may be seen skipping gaily there; there you have it, modern science... yes, yes.... But as for my duties here, inquiries and all such formalities... you mentioned inquiries yourself just now... I assure you these interrogations are sometimes more embarrassing for the interrogator than for the interrogated.... You made the observation yourself just now very aptly and wittily."
He answered half in confusion, half in anger; and his reply was so detrimental to any favourable influence he might otherwise have exercised over the interrogator, that the latter personage, giving him a pinch in the ear, shouted out, "Ramp, ramp!" and at that significant and awful word, Paul found himself surrounded in a trice by a whole host of ingenious tormentors.
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