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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"


'Well?' she muttered between her teeth.
'Your price, man? Your price?'
'I am coming to it now, Mademoiselle,' I said gravely. 'It is a
simple matter. You remember the afternoon when I followed you
--clumsily and thoughtlessly perhaps--through the wood to restore
these things? In seeming that happened about a month ago. I
believe that it happened the day before yesterday. You called me
then some very harsh names, which I will not hurt you by
repeating. The only price I ask for the restoration of your
jewels is that you on your part recall those names.'
'How?' she muttered. 'I do not understand.'
I repeated my words very slowly. 'The only price or reward I
ask, Mademoiselle, is that you take back those names and say that
they were not deserved.'
'And the jewels?' she exclaimed hoarsely.
'They are yours. They are not mine. They are nothing to me.
Take them, and say that you do not think of me--Nay, I cannot say
the words, Mademoiselle.'
'But there is something--else! What else?' she cried, her head
thrown back, her eyes, bright as any wild animal's, searching
mine.


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