Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
Lanyard had promised that Karslake should come for her within an hour or two and take her away with him, back to London and the arms of the father whom, although so recently revealed and accepted, she had already begun to love; if indeed it were not true that she had in filial sense fallen in love with Lanyard at first sight, through intuition, that afternoon in the Café des Exiles so long, so very long ago!
To the interrogation eloquent in her eyes Lanyard replied: "Dictated by Victor to Karslake, who passed it on to me, the night he brought you to the house from the Café des Exiles." "You knew you, who claim to be my father yet permitted him ?" "You were in the house before I knew I had a daughter; Karslake had no chance to consult me before fetching you.
The quiet, when Karslake had closed the door, was oppressive, as if some dark enchantment here had power to tame and silence the growl of London that was never elsewhere in all the city for an instant still. On a great table of black teakwood inlaid with mother of pearl burned a solitary lamp, a curious affair in filigree of brass, furnishing what illumination there was.
It is all so new and strange, what you tell me, it's hard at first to grasp, there's so much I must accept on faith alone, so much I don't understand ..." "I know." Lanyard pressed her hand gently. "But try to have faith; I promise you it shall be fairly rewarded. Only a little longer now, an hour or two at most, and Karslake will be here to prove the truth of all I have asserted.
The eyes, perhaps, told more than anything else of trials endured and memories that would never rest. And as she saw them then, she never did forget them. But the next time she saw them she did not know them at all. The newcomer hailed Mr. He had used two languages already, English to Karslake, French to the waiter; Sofia understood both and spoke them to perfection.
To one side stood a manservant to whom Sofia paid no attention till the sound of his name on Karslake's tongue struck an echo from her memory. "Thanks, Nogam. Prince Victor home yet?" "Not yet, sir." "Tell him, please, when he comes in, we're waiting in the study." "'Nk-you, sir." The servant was the man whom Karslake had met in the Café des Exiles only a few hours before.
As for Mr. Karslake, he endured this candid scrutiny with a faintly apprehensive smile, but volunteered nothing more; so that, when the silence in time acquired an accent of constraint, it was Sofia who had to break it, not Mr. Karslake. "I'm wondering about you," she explained quite gravely. "One fancied as much, Princess Sofia."
Deceit in itself was one form of treachery. And how often had Victor stressed to her the dangers of his position, surrounded by nameless but implacable enemies who would stick at no infamy to compass his ruin! But if she told him that Karslake understood Chinese she would lose her friend forever no question about that.
But for the immediate present, and especially in the paramount business of having a good time, Karslake was fairly a necessity. He thought of everything and forgot nothing, was ever fertile of fresh expedient if the pastime of a moment began to pall, and was capable of sustained fits of irresponsible gaiety which enchanted Sofia, so well did they chime with her own eagerness for sheer fun.
She liked his way of saying that; the title seemed to fall naturally from his lips, without a trace of irony. None the less, it wouldn't do to be too readily influenced in his favour. "Do you really know my father?" "Rather!" said Mr. Karslake. "You see, I'm his secretary." "How long " "Upward of eighteen months now." "And how long have you known I was his daughter?" Mr.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking