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Updated: May 13, 2025
Bergenheim insisted no longer, but, leaning against the back of his chair, he let his head fall upon his breast. He remained for some time buried in thought and vainly trying to connect the obscure words he had just heard with Lambernier's incomplete revelations.
Good gracious, gentlemen! enough of this foolish talk! Let them cut this Lambernier's throat and put an end to the subject! The theatre for dramatic music, the church for sacred! Le vin, le jeu; les belles, Voila mes seuls amours." A general protestation rose from the whole table at this verse, which was roared out in a lugubrious voice.
Bergenheim insisted no longer, but, leaning against the back of his chair, he let his head fall upon his breast. He remained for some time buried in thought and vainly trying to connect the obscure words he had just heard with Lambernier's incomplete revelations.
Good gracious, gentlemen! enough of this foolish talk! Let them cut this Lambernier's throat and put an end to the subject! The theatre for dramatic music, the church for sacred! Le vin, le jeu; les belles, Voila mes seuls amours." A general protestation rose from the whole table at this verse, which was roared out in a lugubrious voice.
Bergenheim insisted no longer, but, leaning against the back of his chair, he let his head fall upon his breast. He remained for some time buried in thought and vainly trying to connect the obscure words he had just heard with Lambernier's incomplete revelations.
"But it was you," he said, in a trembling voice, "you were Lambernier's assassin. I He knew this infamous secret, and his death was involuntary on my part." "The intention is of little account. The deed is the question. There is not a jury that would not condemn you, and that is what I wish, for such a sentence would bring a legal separation between you and your wife and give her her liberty."
"But it was you," he said, in a trembling voice, "you were Lambernier's assassin. I He knew this infamous secret, and his death was involuntary on my part." "The intention is of little account. The deed is the question. There is not a jury that would not condemn you, and that is what I wish, for such a sentence would bring a legal separation between you and your wife and give her her liberty."
"But it was you," he said, in a trembling voice, "you were Lambernier's assassin. I He knew this infamous secret, and his death was involuntary on my part." "The intention is of little account. The deed is the question. There is not a jury that would not condemn you, and that is what I wish, for such a sentence would bring a legal separation between you and your wife and give her her liberty."
So far, only presumptions existed against Clemence grave ones, to be sure, if one added Lambernier's revelations to Marillac's strangely indiscreet remarks. It was his first duty to himself, as well as to her, to know the whole truth; if innocent, he would beg her forgiveness; if guilty, he had a chastisement to inflict.
The stranger also seemed to feel an impression very like that of Lambernier's as he saw a man on horseback advancing on a gallop. Instead of waiting for him, he darted into the field which descended to the river, and hid behind a group of trees.
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