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Updated: June 28, 2025
"I remember how she used to sit all day and look at the sea. Monsieur Poleski left her too much alone, and always spoke so roughly, but I think he loved her." Vladimir gave a short laugh. "You're wrong there, child. No, I'm sure that's not the case with Poleski." "But she loves him?" "Possibly! She always seemed to me uncanny with those extraordinary eyes, and that voice.
"Emile himself. Oh! it's true enough. I don't know when he will go. He doesn't know himself, but soon." "Will you trust me to take care of you when Poleski is gone?" "I'll trust you always." "Promise me you'll come away with me. If you care you'll come. I'll give up the Cause for your sake. I've told you so in my letter and now I say it again." "So I've made you a traitor. Sobrenski was right."
After all he told himself, life was good even if one were a vagabond. Life with adventure, a little money, and love. He burst open the door of Emile's sitting-room, and entered headlong. The sun-blinds were all drawn, making everything appear pitch dark after the blinding glare of the streets. "I want some matches, Poleski! By luck, I've got some cigarettes.
She was as incapable of disguising her feelings as a child, and she was a joyous pagan in her happiness. Vladimir slipped his hand under the warm round arm. "Have I been long, petite? Come and walk up and down. I want to talk to you." "You have found letters, mon ami?" Pauline asked carelessly. "From Poleski. Yes. I'm afraid they are rather important ones.
She's all wire and whipcord, your She-Wolf, Poleski. Has she been snarling at you?" "You'd better give her a week off," proceeded Emile, unmoved. "The audience will be getting tired of her if you're not careful; she has been on too long without a break. Get a fresh artiste and take it out of her salary. I shall give her a week's cruise round the harbour and see what that will do."
"If Emile heard me talking like this he would be so angry." "He talked like this once," Vardri replied. "Poleski was young too not so very long ago, and he loved someone."
Emile Poleski called it l'entresol de l'enfer, and certainly he was not there by his own choice. It was the centre of intrigue, and to intrigue his life, intellect, and the little money he had left from his Polish estates, were devoted. To him life meant "The Cause," and that exigeant mistress left little room for other and more natural affections.
"For some time I have suspected one of our own number of treachery. However, one cannot condemn without proofs. For these I have been waiting and they have now come into my hands. I'm perfectly satisfied that the man I have all along suspected is a traitor, and there is no need to delay action any longer. I suppose Poleski has informed you of how we treat those who are unwise enough to betray us?"
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