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Updated: June 4, 2025
"I can't marry him. And if I do what I've never done before for any man become his mistress who need know? I could stay in the background." "You seem to forget, dear lady," said I, "that Captain Vauvenarde is probably alive." "But I tell you I've lost sight of him altogether." "Are you quite so sure," I asked, regaining my sanity by degrees, "that Captain Vauvenarde has lost sight of you?"
A plague on Captain Vauvenarde for running away from his wife; for giving up the army; for not letting me know whether he is alive or dead; for being, I'll warrant him, in the most uncomfortable and ungetatable spot on the globe. A plague on Dale for becoming infatuated with Lola Brandt.
But no!" He rose and thumped his little chest. "I feel my courage coming back. My will is stiffening into iron. When the carissima signora arrives in Algiers she will find she has a champion!" "How do you know she is coming to Algiers?" I asked startled. "As soon as I learned that Captain Vauvenarde was here," he replied proudly, "I sent her a telegram.
She met my gaze steadily, and I saw a woman's needless pain at the back of her eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and said: "Under conditions." "Monsieur," said I in French, turning to Vauvenarde, "forgive us for speaking our language." "Perfectly," said he, and he smiled meaningly and banteringly at us both.
"Now that you've found Captain Vauvenarde, brought Madame Brandt and him together, and told me that she is in love with me, don't you think you've done enough? Don't you think your cats need your attention? Something terrible may be happening to them. I dreamed last night," I added with desperate mendacity, "that they were turned into woolly lambs."
I did not deceive myself as to its value in the cosmic scheme, but it was one of the pleasant things to which I was born, just as I was born to good food and wines and unpatched boots and the morning hot water brought into my bedroom. I liked it. I suspect that it has fled into eternity with the spirit of Captain Vauvenarde.
Do you remember the five francs you gave to Saupiquet to let you into Sultan's stable? Ah! Ha! Ha! You wince. You grow pale. Do you remember the ball of poison you put down Sultan's throat?" Lola started forward with flaming eyes and anguished face. "You you?" she gasped. "You were so ignoble as to do that?" "The accursed brute!" shouted Vauvenarde. "Yes, I did it.
He would never begin to understand her. I will save her from Dale for her own sake. All this, ladies and gentlemen, because her eyes fascinated me, and caused me to hold my breath, and made my heart beat. And will Captain Vauvenarde understand her? Of course he won't. But then he is her husband, and husbands are notoriously and cum privilegio dunder-headed.
"If I had followed your advice at first," she continued, "we needn't have had all this commotion. And yet I'm not sorry." "What do you propose to do?" I asked. "Before deciding, I shall see my husband." "You shall do no such thing." She smiled. "I shall." I protested. Captain Vauvenarde had put himself outside the pale. He was not fit to associate with decent women.
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