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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Grey Cloak"

It was very clever of you to make
them think you were taking up the Chevalier's cause. You hoodwinked
them nicely."
The vicomte played with the ends of his mustache, as was his habit.
"You say Madame de Brissac is in Quebec ?"
"Yes. And presently your own eyes shall prove the truth of my
statement."
D'Herouville glanced at his sword, which hung upon the wall. "In
Quebec," he mused. "A lie in this case would be objectless."
"As you see. And would you believe it, there has been a love intrigue
between her and the Chevalier! There's a woman, now! How cleverly she
juggled with us all!"
"The Chevalier?"
"Yes. How you love that man! Droll, is it not? She has been
masquerading, and to this day he hasn't the slightest idea who she is."
"Come, now, Vicomte," with assumed good nature; "your purpose; out with
it."
"I am not a man to waste time, certainly."
"You will give me satisfaction, then?"
"You have but to name the day. The truth is, under the present
circumstances the world has suddenly contracted."
D'Herouville nodded. "That is to say, it is no longer large enough for
both of us.


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