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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"


Do you understand? I think that there will be no more searching
to-day.' She uttered an exclamation, grasping my arm and peering
into my face.
'You will kill him?' she muttered.
I nodded.
'Why not?' I said.
She caught her breath, and stood with one hand clasped to her
bosom, gazing at me with parted lips, the blood mounting to her
checks. Gradually the flush melted into a fierce smile.
'Yes, yes, why not?' she repeated between her teeth. 'Why not?'
She had her hand on my arm, and I felt her fingers tighten until
I could have winced. 'Why not? So you planned this--for us,
Monsieur?'
I nodded.
'But can you?'
'Safely,' I said; then, muttering to her to take her sister
upstairs, I turned towards the garden. My foot was already on
the threshold, and I was composing my face to meet the enemy,
when I heard a movement behind me. The next moment her hand was
on my arm.
'Wait! Wait a moment! Come back!' she panted. I turned. The
smile and flush had vanished; her face was pale. 'No!' she said
abruptly. 'I was wrong! I, will not have it. I will have no
part in it! You planned it last night, M.


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