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Runkle, Bertha, 1879-1958

"Helmet of Navarre"

"We are all
pawns in the game for M. de Mayenne to push about as he chooses. For a
time M. de Mar was high in his favour. Then my cousin Paul came back
after a two years' disappearance, and straightway he was up and M. de
Mar was down. And then Paul vanished again as suddenly as he had come,
and it became the turn of M. de Brie. Now to-night Paul walked in as
suddenly as he had left and at once played on me to write that unlucky
letter. And what it bodes for _him_ I know not."
She spoke with amazing frankness; yet, much as she had told me, the fact
of her telling it told me even more. I saw that she was as lonely in
this great house as I had been at St. Quentin. She would have talked
delightedly to M. le Comte's dog.
"Mademoiselle," I said, "I would like well to tell you what has been
happening to my M. Etienne this last month, if you are not afraid to
stay long enough to hear it."
"Oh, every one is asleep long ago; it is past two o'clock. Yes, you may
tell me if you wish."
She sat down on a praying-cushion, motioning me to the other, and I
began my tale. At first she listened with a little air of languor, as if
the whole were of slight consequence and she really did not care at all
what M. le Comte had been about these five weeks. But as I got into the
affair of the Rue Coupejarrets she forgot her indifference and leaned
forward with burning cheeks, hanging on my words with eager questions.


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