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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Grey Cloak"

"
"Good Heaven! let us talk of something else," cried madame. "The
Chevalier, the Chevalier! He has no part in my life, nor I in his; nor
will he have. I do not at present hate him, but if you keep trumpeting
his name into my ears I shall." Madame was growing visibly angry. "I
will leave you, Anne, with the Mother Superior's letters. I do not
want company; I want to be alone. I shall return before the noon meal."
"Gabrielle, you are not angry at me? I was only jesting."
"No, Anne; I am angry at myself. My vanity is still young and green,
and I can not yet separate Monsieur du Cevennes from the boot-heel
which ground upon my likeness. No woman with any pride would forgive
an affront like that; and I am both proud and unforgiving."
"I can understand, Gabrielle. You ought not to have joined me. By now
you would have been in Navarre or in Spain."
"And lonely, lonely, lonely!" with a burst of tenderness, throwing her
arms round Anne again and kissing her. "I must go; I shall weep if I
remain."
Half an hour later an orderly announced to his Excellency the governor
that a lady desired to see him.


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