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Updated: June 22, 2025
Arsene Lupin left the summer-house where he was smoking a cigar and, bending forward at the end of the pier: "Growler?" he asked. "Masher?... Are you there?" A man rose from each of the boats, and one of them answered: "Yes, governor." "Get ready. I hear the car coming with Gilbert and Vaucheray."
They were Prasville's inspectors. "No telegram?" he asked his servant. "No, governor," replied Achille. "No news of the Masher and the Growler?" "No, governor, none." "That's all right," he said to Clarisse, in a casual tone. "It's only seven o'clock and we mustn't reckon on seeing them before eight or nine. Prasville will have to wait, that's all. I will telephone to him to wait."
The office of the magazine was in a large, conglomerate building, presided under by a janitor. As the writer stepped inside the door on his way to the elevator a potato masher flew through the hall, wrecking Slayton's hat, and smashing the glass of the door.
Cut some boiled lobster in small pieces; then take the small claws and the spawn, put them in a suitable dish, and jam them to a paste with a potato masher.
Ten minutes later I knew the number of his room and knew that a lady had been occupying the next room, No. 130, since the day before. 'I believe we've done it, I said to the Growler and the Masher. I tapped lightly at your door. No answer. And the door was locked." "Well?" asked Clarisse. "Well, we opened it. Do you think there's only one key in the world that will work a lock? So I walked in.
"Yes, the portress caught Victoire listening to Daubrecq's conversation with me on the telephone; and the Masher, who was watching the house, saw you go out. I suspected, therefore, that you would follow Daubrecq that evening." "And the woman who came here, late one afternoon..." "Was myself. I felt disheartened and wanted to see you." "And you intercepted Gilbert's letter?"
Let the cave-man, reader of picture-writing, be allowed to ponder over scientific truth. He is at present the victim of the alleged truth of the specious and sentimental variety of photograph. It gives the precise edges of the coat or collar of the smirking masher and the exact fibre in the dress of the jumping-jack. The eye grows weary of sharp points and hard edges that mean nothing.
Cover your blackberries with cold water; crush the berries well with a wooden masher; let them stand twenty-four hours; then strain, and to one gallon of juice put three pounds of common brown sugar; put into wide-mouthed jars for several days, carefully skimming off the scum that will rise to the top; put in several sheets of brown paper and let them remain in it three days; then skim again and pour through a funnel into your cask.
On the other hand, he would soon learn from Clarisse Mergy where Daubrecq himself was lurking. The rest, to him, would be child's play. The Growler and the Masher were waiting for him in the drawing-room of the Hotel Franklin, a small family-hotel near the Trocadero. Mme. Mergy had not yet written to him. "Oh," he said, "I can trust her! She will hang on to Daubrecq until she is certain."
But the mammas and the aunties may feel perfectly safe for another reason. The earnest, ambitious young gentlewoman you are watching over is not often attractive to the "masher." The clever and promising artist, Miss G , is not his style. He is not looking for brains, "don't yer know."
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