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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Grey Cloak"


The vicomte was genuinely surprised at the strides toward completeness
which D'Herouville had made. An ordinary man would still have been
either in bed or in a chair. But none of this surprise appeared on the
Vicomte's face. He had come with a purpose, and he went at it directly.
"Count," he replied, "you and I have been playing hide and seek in the
woods, needlessly and purposelessly."
"I scarce comprehend your words or your presence."
"I will explain at once. Madame de Brissac has made sorry fools of us
all. She is here in Quebec."
"What?" The pain caused by the sudden intake of breath stooped
D'Herouville's shoulders.
"I have the honor, then, of bringing you the news? Yes," easily,
"Madame de Brissac is in Quebec. Why, is as yet unknown to me."
"What is your purpose in bringing me this lie?" asked D'Herouville,
recovering. "I have been surrounded by lies ever since I stepped foot
in Rochelle. I shall kill Monsieur de Saumaise a week hence."
"And you do not wish satisfaction from me?" slyly.
A fury leaped into D'Herouville's eyes, but suddenly died away. "I am
living only with that end in view.


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