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Updated: June 7, 2025
Not until the negress had entered did the grandmother retire, which showed, so Kirk imagined, that even yet the Garavel household had no more confidence in him than in a badgeless building inspector. He was not grateful for the change, for he did not like Stephanie, and, judging from the sombre suspicion of the black woman's glances, the feeling was mutual.
In the shadows of the room he had fancied that he could see Stephanie Eiderstrom holding out her arms, calling to him to fulfill the pledges of long ago, and behind her "Have you ever been in love, Mangan?" Dominey asked his companion. "I, sir? Well, I'm not sure," the man of the world replied, a little startled by the abruptness of the question.
"Stephanie," he would exclaim, "do talk. What are you thinking of? You dream like an African native." She merely sat and smiled in a dark way or sketched or modeled him. She was constantly penciling something, until moved by the fever of her blood, when she would sit and look at him or brood silently, eyes down.
"He is as cold as marble, as particular as an old bachelor, as communicative as a sentinel; and he's one of those men who say yes to everything, but who never do anything but what they want to." "Deny him, once." "I've tried it." "What came of it?" "He threatened to reduce my allowance, and to keep back a sum big enough for him to get along without me." "Poor Stephanie!
Under these circumstances Napoleon contemplated with well-founded anxiety the idea of his brother's union with Stephanie. He was therefore the more ready to listen to Josephine's suggestion of the marriage of Louis and Hortense. This union in every respect seemed exceedingly desirable. Napoleon could gratify their highest ambition in assigning to them posts of opulence and honor.
After having visited, on horseback, the positions which the two armies had held the evening before, and on the day of, the battle of Jena, as well as the plain of Aspolda, on which the duke had prepared a hunt with guns, the two Emperors returned to Erfurt, which they reached at five o'clock in the evening, almost at the very moment the grand hereditary duke of Baden and the Princess Stephanie arrived.
Nonplussed for the moment, Stephanie had lost her mental, though not her outward, composure and referred them back casually to an evening at the Cowperwood home when Aileen had been present and the gauds had been genially forced upon her.
"And if not?" she questioned slowly. "If for instance I do not feel myself insulted by what happened last night?" He glanced up at that so suddenly that she felt as if something pierced her. "Then," he rejoined harshly, "you are a very strange woman, Mademoiselle Stephanie." "I begin to think I am," she said, with a rather piteous smile. "Yet, for all that, I will not be trifled with either.
Her throat clogged, her eyes filled, even here, and a mystical bog-fire state of emotion succeeded the primary one of opposition. Cowperwood knew the look well. It gave him the only sense of triumph he had. "Stephanie," he remarked, "I have just one word to say to you now. We will not meet any more, of course. You are a good actress. Stick to your profession.
She would look at him silently, without emotion, when his tears flowed; but she always understood his "Partant pour la Syrie," when he whistled it, though he never succeeded in teaching her to say her own name Stephanie. Philippe was sustained in his agonizing enterprise by hope, which never abandoned him.
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