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Updated: May 31, 2025
Her kind was always sure to seek, once its fortunes were on firm footing, to establish itself, as here, in the very heart of an exclusive residential district; as if thinking to absorb social sanctity through the simple act of rubbing shoulders with it; or else, as was more likely to be the case with a woman of Liane Delorme's temper, desiring more to affront a world from which she was outcast than to lay siege to its favour.
In the end, instead of making difficulties for the party, he consented to take charge of his friend's body and that of Liane Devereux, which latter duty was his by right, as consul to the country from which she came.
In silence the three men moved to the door and out, Phinuit with a brazen swagger, Jules without emotion visible, Monk with eyebrows adroop and flapping. But Lanyard interposed when Liane Delorme would have followed. "A moment, Liane, if you will be so good." She paused, regarding him with a sombre and inscrutable face while he produced from his coat-pocket a fat envelope without endorsement.
Neither Monk nor Phinuit had betrayed the least surprise on seeing Lanyard; and Phinuit had not even troubled to recognise the fiction which Liane had uttered in accounting for him.
I know my ship, I know my men, I know what I'm talking about." "Presently," Liane prophesied darkly, "you may be talking about nothing." At a loss, Monk muttered: "Don't get you...." "When you find yourself, some fine morning, with your throat cut in your sleep, like poor de Lorgnes or garroted, as I might have been." "I'm not going to lose any sleep....." Monk began.
You need not fear that even a rat has found his way aboard since then, or can before we sail, without my knowledge." "Thank God!" Liane breathed and instantly found a new question to fret about. "But your men, Captain Monk your officers and crew can you be sure of them?" "Absolutely." "You haven't signed on any new men here in Cherbourg?" Lanyard asked.
Liane enquired coolly, without stirring. "I know nothing of this conference." "Mr. Phinuit and I are agreed that Monsieur Lanyard is entitled to know more about our intentions while he has time to weigh them carefully. We have only four more days at sea..." Unable longer to contain himself, Lanyard left his chair with alacrity. "But this is so delightful!
Bit hard on me, but fortunately for you, Janie Janet, I'm rather a dab at languages 'specially when it comes to what the late lamented Boche referred to as 'cosy names. Querida mi alma, douchka, Herzliebchen, carissima; and bien, bien-aimée, I'll not run out of salutations for you this side of heaven no nor t'other. I adore the serene grace with which you ignore the ravishing Liane.
He was more certain than ever, if that were possible, that this woman was not Liane Devereux, for the voice was many tones deeper, and the Countess spoke English with an accent that was not at all French. It seemed to him that no woman could disguise herself so completely face, voice, mannerisms, accent no matter how clever she might be; besides, Virginia's idea was ridiculous.
"De Lorgnes ?" Lanyard inclined his head. The woman breathed an invocation to the Deity and sank back against the wall, her face ghastly beneath its paint. "You know this?" "I was a passenger aboard the rapide, and saw the body before it was removed." Liane Delorme made an effort to speak, but only her breath rustled harshly on her dry lips.
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