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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Grey Cloak"

Last night he won back the amount he lost to me; and
with these fifty pistoles our accounts are square. What have you
against the vicomte? I have always found him a man. And of all those
who called themselves my friends, has not he alone stood forth?"
"There is some motive," still persisted the poet.
"Time will discover it."
"Oh, the devil, Paul! he loves Madame de Brissac; and my gorge rises at
the sight of him."
"What! is all Paris in love with Madame de Brissac? You have explained
your antipathy. Every man has a right to love."
"I know it."
"I wonder how it happens that I have never seen this daughter of the
Montbazons?"
"You have your own affair."
"Past tense, my lad, past tense. Now, I wish to be alone. I have some
thinking to do which requires complete isolation. Go to bed and sleep,
and do not worry about me. Come at seven; I shall be awake." The
Chevalier stood and held forth his arms. They embraced. Once alone
the outcast blew out the candle, folded his arms on the table, and hid
his face in them. After that it was very still in the private
assembly, save for the occasional moaning in the chimney.


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