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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Love!" exclaimed Edmond, "accursed word! execrable equivocation and madness of mankind! this old misunderstanding, love, this detestable riddle of the sphynx, that no one has unriddled and for which thousands have bled damnation!" He gnashed his teeth and dashed his gun on the ground, so that it went off and the shot passed through the ceiling.
Are there no answers to these conundrums and the thousand others that might be asked by a person with a slight attack of curiosity?... No one does ask and assuredly no one answers. These riddles, it would seem, are included among the forbidden mysteries of the sphynx.
A dozen men had paid her compliments during the day, yet she knew that every admiring glance, every whispered word which had come to her to-day, or for many days past, would count for nothing if only she could pierce for a single moment the unchanging coldness of the man who sat watching her now with the face of a Sphynx. A slow tide of passion welled up in her heart.
Then he desisted and went away. The Sphynx: a hundred and twenty-five feet long, sixty feet high, and a hundred and two feet around the head, if I remember rightly carved out of one solid block of stone harder than any iron. I only set down these figures and these remarks to suggest the prodigious labor the carving of it so elegantly, so symmetrically, so faultlessly, must have cost.
There is no Sphynx like your "man in authority," whether his reasons for silence be that he does not wish others to know his intentions, or that he does not know them himself.
"To put Adele to bed: it is past her bedtime." "You are afraid of me, because I talk like a Sphynx." "Your language is enigmatical, sir: but though I am bewildered, I am certainly not afraid." "You are afraid your self-love dreads a blunder." "In that sense I do feel apprehensive I have no wish to talk nonsense."
"To the theatre!" exclaimed Trevalyon; "I was not aware this was on the tapis for this evening." "Yes," said Lady Esmondet, "Mr. Bertram and I arranged it; M. Octave Feuillet's play, the "Sphynx," is on. I begin to think it was selfish on my part, you all look so comfortable; perhaps we had better abandon it." "Put it to the vote," cried Mrs. Wingfield. "And no bribery," echoed Vaura.
'Well, I must go and meet her, I cried, and, hastily snatching a bull's-eye lantern and policeman's rattle from the Sphynx, I plunged into the darkness. First I hurried to Mrs. Thompson's, where I learned that Philippa had just gone out for a stroll after a somewhat prolonged luncheon. This was like Philippa.
There are some things which, for the credit of America, should be left unsaid, perhaps; but these very things happen sometimes to be the very things which, for the real benefit of Americans, ought to have prominent notice. While we stood looking, a wart, or an excrescence of some kind, appeared on the jaw of the Sphynx. We heard the familiar clink of a hammer, and understood the case at once.
And, of course, you'd have the sphynx candelabras, and the phoenix argands Oh! nothing else lights now, ma'am! Expense! Expense of the whole! Impossible to calculate here on the spot! but nothing at all worth your ladyship's consideration!"
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