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Updated: June 4, 2025
Which would have been purposeless and excessively bad form. Eh?" A violent retort had sprung to Armand's lips. But fortunately at that very moment his eyes, glowing with anger, caught those of Blakeney fixed with lazy good-nature upon his. Something of that irresistible dignity which pervaded the whole personality of the man checked Armand's hotheaded words on his lips.
But Armand's dark, handsome face had not often been disfigured by frowns since the day he fell in love with her. When the baby was about three months old, Desiree awoke one day to the conviction that there was something in the air menacing her peace. It was at first too subtle to grasp.
"This visit at such an early hour must seem to you an intrusion. But I am Marguerite St. Just, and " Her smile and outstretched hand completed the sentence. "St. Just!" exclaimed Jeanne. "Yes. Armand's sister!" A swift blush rushed to the girl's pale cheeks; her brown eyes expressed unadulterated joy.
"Please God, you'll both be at Portel with me before dawn." Then she was indeed forced to believe. She put out her hands and groped for him, for it was dark inside the carriage; she groped, and felt his massive shoulders leaning across the body of the coach, while his fingers busied themselves with the irons on Armand's wrist.
And Cecile kept her word, though it was a terrible time, for there was no endurance in poor Armand's shallow nature, and his cries and struggles were piteous. He could dare, but not suffer, and had not both she and Clement been resolute and tranquil, the doctor owned that he could not have succeeded.
The springs of the coach creaked and groaned as the vehicle slowly swung round; the wheels ploughed deeply through the soft carpet of dead leaves. Marguerite felt Armand's inert body leaning heavily against her shoulder. "Are you in pain, dear?" she asked softly. He made no reply, and she thought that he had fainted.
At Armand's words his lips had imperceptibly tightened, his eyes had narrowed as if they tried to see something that was beyond the range of their focus. Across the smooth brow the strange shadow made by the hair seemed to find a reflex from within.
Percy had longed to be back in England soon, back to Marguerite, to a few days of unalloyed happiness and a few days of peace. Now Armand's actions had retarded all that; they were a deliberate bar to the future as it had been mapped out by a man who foresaw everything, who was prepared for every eventuality.
"Percy begged me to give you this, and then to let you read it when you were alone." She pressed the packet into his hand. Armand's face was ashen pale. He clung to her with strange, nervous tenacity; the paper which he held in one hand seemed to Sear his fingers as with a branding-iron.
Well, caps, collars, jackets, socks, dainty little shoes, pink garters, the muslin frock with silk embroidery, all was laid out on my bed. Then the little brown heads had to be brushed, twittering merrily all the time like birds, answering each other's call. Armand's hair is in curls, while Nais' is brought forward softly on the forehead as a border to the pink-and-white cap.
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