Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 9, 2025
"Isn't it possible that he is merely attracted by the beauty of our charming young friend here?" ventured Madame Drovnask, after many opinions had been advanced respecting his interest in the shop and its contents. "It is a habit with Americans, I am told." "Miss Platanova is most worthy of the notice of any man," agreed Brutus, with an amiable leer. Olga seemed to shrink within herself.
Olga Platanova was the only one who did not look upon the sprightly American as a spy in the employ of the government a dangerously clever spy at that.
As the procession drew nearer, the companions of this wretched girl slunk away from her side, losing themselves in the crowd, leaving her to do her work while they sought distant spots of safety. Olga Platanova, her arms folded beneath the long red cloak she wore, remained where they had placed her and waited!
At the extreme outer side of Regengetz Circus a small group of men and women stood, white-faced and immovable, steadfastly holding a position in the front rank of spectators. Shrinking back among this determined coterie was the slender, shuddering figure of Olga Platanova, haggard-faced, but with the light of desperation in her eyes.
In this way Marlanx hoped to obtain his first footing in the confidence and esteem of the citizens. The unrecognisable corpse of Olga Platanova was buried in quicklime outside the city walls. There was something distinctly gruesome in the fact that half a dozen deep graves were dug alongside hers, hours before death came to the wretches who were to occupy them.
He looked long, with a somewhat shifty eye, at the cabinet of ancient rings and necklaces, and then departed without having seen the interesting Miss Platanova. If the old man observed a tendency to roam in the young man's eye, he did not betray the fact at least not so that any one could notice.
"Thank God, your assassins not only failed to dynamite the boy, but your dogs failed to capture him. By heaven, God is with Prince Robin, after all!" "How exalted you seem, Baron! It is a treat to look at you. Oh, another thing: the Platanova girl was not my assassin." "That's a lie!" "You shall not chide me in that fashion, Baron. You are very rude.
One member of the Committee was absent from this, their first public espousal of the cause. Later on we are to discover who this man was. Two women in bright red waists were crying encouragement to the old man on the box, whose opening sentences were no less than an unchanted requiem for the dead martyr, Olga Platanova.
The clattering of frightened horses, the shouts and screams of men and women, the gruesome rush of ten thousand people in stampede all in twenty seconds after the engine of death left the hand of Olga Platanova. Olga Platanova! There was nothing left of her! She had failed to do the deed expected of her, but she would not hear the execrations of those who had depended upon her to kill the Prince.
"Great God!" cried Truxton, stopping suddenly and pointing with trembling hand to a spot across the street and a little below where they had pushed through the resentful, staring throng on the sidewalk. "There she is! At the corner! Stop her!" He had caught sight of Olga Platanova. The first row of dragoons was already passing in front of her.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking