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Updated: May 31, 2025
"If she were really a Portuguese woman she might vanish from before my eyes, for all I should care," obstinately returned the girl. "But she is Liane Devereux, and if she breathed poison I wouldn't let her go till I had torn out her secret." "How do you mean to set about doing that?" demanded Roger. "That is my secret," said Virginia.
It seemed, however, truly deplorable that Liane should have proved so conventional-minded in this particular respect. It rendered one's pet project much too difficult of execution. Earnestly as one desired to have a look at the inside of that house without the knowledge of its inmates, its aspect was forbidding and discouraging in the utmost extreme.
"You seemed to get on very well with Liane Delorme." "Pardon. If I am sentimental, it is because old memories have been awakened to-night, memories of forfeit days when one thought well of oneself, here in Paris." "Days in which, no doubt, Liane played a part?" "A very minor rôle, Athenais ... But are you doing me the honour to be jealous?" "Perhaps, petit Monsieur Paul..."
"But I assure you, never a day has passed, no, nor yet a night, that I have not dwelt upon the thought of you, since you made so effective an entrance to the château, a vision of radiant beauty, out of that night of tempest and fury." Liane drooped a coy head. "Monsieur compliments me too much." "Impossible!" "Is one, then, to understand that monsieur is making love to me?"
It is true, the years between had made that other time a little vague with old remoteness in my memory; but to-night has brought it all back and a renewed memory never fades." "So one is told. But trust self-interest at need to black it out." "You have no faith in me!" she said bitterly. Lanyard gave her a weary smile. "Why should I not? And as for that: Why should I have faith in you, Liane?
On the way to their table they were intercepted by a woman who, with two cavaliers, had since the moment of her entrance been standing near the door of the restaurant, apparently spellbound with admiration. Through a rising clatter of tongues her voice cut clearly but not at all unpleasantly. "Athenais! It is I Liane."
"I shall call you mon cher Gaston, and you well, you will call me your petite Liane Liane de Bourbriac will sound well, will it not?" "Yes. But why this masquerade?" I inquired. "I confess, mademoiselle, I don't understand it at all." "Dear Bindo does. Ask him."
"One has seen what one has seen, these last few days. I think you are what that original Phinuit would call 'a fast worker, Liane." "What stupidity! If I seek to make myself liked, you know well it is with a purpose." "One hardly questions that." "You judge harshly ... Michael." Lanyard spent a look of astonishment on the darkness.
Fearful lest, left to herself, Liane Delorme would do an injury to his eardrums as well as to her own vocal chords, Lanyard stepped across the dead bulk of the Apache and planted himself squarely in front of the woman.
Liane Delorme had made much of the chief engineer; though she seemed less likely to talk too much than anyone of the ship's company but Lanyard himself. "And what, Mr. Mussey, if I should admit I am Michael Lanyard?" "Then I'll have something to say to you, something I think'll interest you." "Why not run the risk of interesting me, whoever I may be?"
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