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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"


"Ah, Madame," he said, "you are very brave to choose such a
rendezvous."
"Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited," was the reply.
"If aught should happen to you--"
"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers
from impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims."
"So would I, Madame; even life." There was a tremor of passion
in his voice, but she appeared not to notice it. "Here is a nook
out of the lights; we may talk here with safety."
"And what is the news?" she asked.
"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found.
Listen," and his voice fell into a whisper.
"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together
in excitement. "Is it true?"
"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight.
Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes,
everywhere. The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave.
A word from me, and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy
were it not for the archbishop."
"The archbishop?" contemptuously.
"Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that
I would give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts.


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