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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"Bardelys the Magnificent; being an account of the strange wooing pursued by the Sieur Marcel de Saint-Pol, marquis of Bardelys..."

Next followed what
seemed to me an interminable pause, although, indeed, it can have
been no more than a matter of seconds - aye, and of but few. Then,
her gown drawn well aside, she passed me in that same irrecognizing
way, whilst I, abashed, shrank back into the shadows of the porch,
burning with shame and rage and humiliation.
From under her brows her woman glanced at me inquisitively; her
liveried page, his nose in the air, eyed me so pertly that I was
hard put to it not to hasten with my foot his descent of the steps.
At last they were gone, and from the outside the shrill voice of
her page was wafted to me. He was calling to the ostler for her
carriage. Standing, in my deep mortification, where she had passed
me, I conjectured from that demand that she was journeying to Lavedan.
She knew now how she had been cheated on every hand, first by me
and later, that very afternoon, by Chatellerault, and her resolve to
quit Toulouse could but signify that she was done with me for good.
That it had surprised her to find me at large already, I fancied I
had seen in her momentary glance, but her pride had been quick to
conquer and stifle all signs of that surprise.
I remained where she had passed me until her coach had rumbled away
into the night, and during the moments that elapsed I had stood
arguing with myself and resolving upon my course of action. But
despair was fastening upon me.
I had come to the Hotel de l'Epee, exulting, joyous, and confident
of victory.


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