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Updated: June 23, 2025
With some editing in the way of punctuation, it follows: "Dear old bean: Please advise Prefecture de Police without revealing your source of information, unidentified man found murdered on rapide arriving Gare de Lyon eight-thirty this morning stopped yesterday Hôtel Terminus, Lyons, under name of Comte de Lorgnes.
"Let us hope, however," the Comtesse de Lorgnes interposed sweetly, "by that time this so dreadful tempest will have moderated." "One has that hope," her husband uttered in a sepulchral voice. "But, if the storm continue," Madame de Sévénié said, "you must not think of travelling farther on such a night. The château is large, there is ample accommodation for all..."
"They did not find their way into Cottier's stock, then?" The Comtesse de Lorgnes gave a gesture of excitement. "But what a fortunate woman! You truly have those magnificent emeralds, those almost matchless diamonds, of which one has heard the Anstruther collection?" "I have them, Madame la Comtesse," said Eve with a smiling nod "yes."
De Lorgnes and I had fixed that, if anything did happen to separate us, we'd each strike for Lyons and the one who got there first would wait for the other at the Hôtel Terminus.
All day she had been expecting de Lorgnes, or word from him, all day and all this night. One could imagine the hourly augmented strain of care and foreboding; indeed its evidence were only too clearly betrayed in her face and manner of that moment: she was on the rack. But there was no pity in Lanyard's heart.
That Liane herself had not so suddenly decided to leave France, where she was after a fashion somebody, and journey to America, where she would be nobody, except in stress of mortal fear lest the fate that had befallen de Lorgnes befall her in turn as would surely have been the case last night but for Lanyard.
So he re-entered the hotel and sought its restaurant, where the untiring Long Arm of Coincidence took him by the hand and led him to a table immediately adjoining one occupied exclusively by Monsieur le Comte de Lorgnes.
"Ah!" said Lanyard "but about Madame la Comtesse de Lorgnes..." "My friend: that was a good joke once; but now you must forget that name as utterly as I have forgotten another." "Impossible." "What do you say?" She frowned a little. "Is it possible you misunderstood? De Lorgnes was nothing to me." "I never thought he was." "You had reason.
Monsieur le Comte de Lorgnes he was disposed to pass at face value, as an innocuous being, good natured enough but none too brilliant, with much of the disposition of an overgrown boy and a rather boyish tendency to admire and imitate in others qualities which he did not himself possess. Mr.
And when Monsieur le Comte de Lorgnes had wavered through the gateway in tow of a luggage-laden porter; and Dupont had torn himself away from his fond familiar and lurched after the count; and Lanyard, after a little wait, had followed in turn: he was able to see for himself that Dupont had contrived to be berthed in the same carriage with de Lorgnes; proving that he did not mean to let the count out of sight, day or night.
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