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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Grey Cloak"

Her
gaze swerved from his and rested longingly on the Henri IV in the
harbor. She had determined to return to France upon it. The amazing
episode of the night before convinced her that her safety lay rather in
France than in Canada. But she had confided this determination to no
one, not even to Anne.
"Have you no welcome, Madame?"
"My husband's friends," she said, "were not always mine; and I see no
reason why you should continue further to address me."
"De Brissac? Bah! I was never his friend."
"So much the more doubt upon your honesty;" and she moved as if to pass.
"Madame, D'Halluys told me this morning that he is determined that you
shall be his wife."
"The vicomte's confidence is altogether too large." She laughed, and
made another ineffectual attempt to pass. "Monsieur, you are detaining
me."
"That is correct. I have much to say to you. In the first place, you
played us all for a pack of fools, and all the while you were carrying
on an intrigue with that fellow who calls himself the Chevalier du
Cevennes."
Madame's lips closed firmly, and a circle of color spotted her cheeks.
There had been times recently when she regretted De Brissac's death.


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