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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"

"
He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures,
and continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the
chateau. Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that
her sprightliness was gone. When they came under the porte
cochere he sprang from his horse and assisted her to dismount;
and he did not relinquish her hand till he had given it a
friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the steps, centered a
look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran swiftly into
the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.
"It would not be difficult," he mused, communing with the
thought which had come to him. "It would be something real, and
not a chimera."
He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of
Fitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman
was nowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he
proceeded to the dining hall. Fadette, the maid, was laying the
silver.
"Ah, the `pantry maid,'" he thought. "Good day, Fadette."
"Does Monsieur wish for something?"
"A glass of water. Thanks!"
She retreated and kept her eyes lowered.


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