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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Perhaps you think of making your escape with the child, and taking refuge abroad?" Mrs. Linley eagerly accepted the hint. "The first train to-morrow morning starts at half-past seven," she said. "We might catch some foreign steamer that sails from the east coast of Scotland." Mrs. Presty, keeping a wary eye on Mr. Sarrazin, was not quite so ready as her daughter in rushing at conclusions.
"Take me up on your knee," she said. "There's something wrong going on in this house." Mr. Sarrazin took her on his knee, and rashly asked what had gone wrong. Kitty's reply puzzled him. "I go to mamma's room every morning when I wake," the child began.
They came from the Champ de Mars, and were going to the Montmartre Cemetery. They were full of corpses. It was this same Criscelli, who later on at Vaugirard in the Rue du Trancy, killed by special order of the Prefect of Police a man named Kech, "suspected of plotting the assassination of the Emperor." The Marquis Sarrazin de Montferrier, a relative of my eldest brother.
My memory is defective, my learned friend. Non mi ricordo. I know nothing about it." Randal changed his tone. "We have amused ourselves long enough," he said. "I have serious reasons, Sarrazin, for wishing to know what passed between Miss Westerfield and you and I trust my old friend to relieve my anxiety." The lawyer was accustomed to say of himself that he never did things by halves.
It had struck him as being just possible that Sydney might have called there for the second time; and, on making inquiry, he found that his surmise was correct. Miss Westerfield had called, and had gone away again more than an hour since. Having mentioned this circumstance, good Mr. Sarrazin rather abruptly changed the subject.
"Expect me to-morrow on business which requires personal consultation." That was the message. In taking the long journey to Cumberland, Mrs. Linley's legal adviser sacrificed two days of his precious time in London. Something serious must assuredly have happened. In the meantime, who was the lawyer? He was Mr. Sarrazin, of Lincoln's Inn Fields. Was he an Englishman or a Frenchman?
This may probably have the same fate; however, if it reaches Monsieur Sarrazin, I presume he will know where to take his aim at you; for I find you are in motion, and with a polarity to Dresden.
Sarrazin reluctantly reminded her that the father had a right. "No person not even the mother can take the child out of the father's custody," he said, "except with the father's consent. His authority is the supreme authority unless it happens that the law has deprived him of his privilege, and has expressly confided the child to the mother's care. Ha!" cried Mr.
"No, indeed, madam," he said, "I should be unworthy of your confidence if I proposed nothing better than that. You can only secure the sole possession of little Kitty by getting the help of a judge " "Get it at once," Mrs. Linley interposed. "And you can only prevail on the judge to listen to you," Mr. Sarrazin proceeded, "in one way. Summon your courage, madam. Apply for a divorce."
Pale, exhausted, yielding to hard necessity, she looked up when her mother said, "Consent to the Divorce," and answered, "I have consented." "And trust me," Mr. Sarrazin said fervently, "to see that Justice is done, and to protect you in the meanwhile." Mrs. Presty added her tribute of consolation. "After all," she asked, "what is there to terrify you in the prospect of a Divorce?
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