Part 29 (1/2)
Andre-Louis, reading the sheet at breakfast, and having no delusions on the score of the falseness of that state, and the pretentiousness in which he had swaddled it, had deceived thereet Binet and Climene, who entered at that moment He waved the sheet above his head
”It is settled,” he announced, ”we stay in Nantes until Easter”
”Do we?” said Binet, sourly ”You settle everything, my friend”
”Read for yourself” And he handed him the paper
Moodily M Binet read He set the sheet down in silence, and turned his attention to his breakfast
”Was I justified or not?” quoth Andre-Louis, who found M Binet's behaviour a thought intriguing
”In what?”
”In coht so, we should not have coan to eat
Andre-Louis dropped the subject, wondering
After breakfast he and Climene sallied forth to take the air upon the quays It was a day of brilliant sunshi+ne and less cold than it had lately been Coluh in this respectafter them, and attached hi out ahead with Cli that was upper very oddly towards me,” said he ”It is aline it,” said she ”My father is very grateful to you, as we all are”
”He is anything but grateful He is infuriated against uess?”
”I can't, indeed”
”If you were hter, Clirieved against the man who carried you away from me Poor old Pantaloon! He called me a corsair when I told hiht You are a bold robber, Scaramouche”
”It is in the character,” said he ”Your father believes in having his e the parts that suit their natural te you want, don't you?” She looked up at hily, half shyly
”If it is possible,” said he ”I took his consent to our ive it When, in fact, he refused it, I just snatched it from him, and I'll defy him noin it back frohed, and launched upon an anih the bustle of traffic on the quay a cabriolet, the upper half of which was allass, had approached thenificent bay horses and driven by a superbly livened coachirl wrapped in a lynx-fur pelisse, her face of a delicate loveliness She was leaning forward, her lips parted, her eyes devouring Scaraaze
When that happened, the shock of it brought hi in the , plucked at his sleeve
”What is it, Scaramouche?”
But he made no attempt to answer her, and at that nalled, brought the carriage to a standstill beside the of that coach with its escutcheoned panels, its portly coach instantly to earth as the vehicle stopped--its dainty occupant seemed to Climene a princess out of a fairy-tale And this princess leaned forward, with eyes aglow and cheeks aflush, stretching out a choicely gloved hand to Scaramouche
”Andre-Louis!” she called hi, just as he ht have taken the hand of Cliladness of her own, in a voice that echoed the joyous surprise of hers, he addressed her familiarly by name, just as she had addressed him