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Orczy, Emmasku Orczy

"The Scarlet Pimpernel"


"The air is deliciously cool," she said, "the moonlight
peaceful and poetic, and the garden inviting. Will you not stay in it
awhile; the hour is not yet late, or is my company so distasteful to
you, that you are in a hurry to rid yourself of it?"
"Nay, Madame," he rejoined placidly, "but `tis on the other
foot the shoe happens to be, and I'll warrant you'll find the midnight
air more poetic without my company: no doubt the sooner I remove the
obstruction the better your ladyship will like it."
He turned once more to go.
"I protest you mistake me, Sir Percy," she said hurriedly, and
drawing a little closer to him; "the estrangement, which alas! has
arisen between us, was none of my making, remember."
"Begad! you must pardon me there, Madame!" he protested
coldly, "my memory was always of the shortest."
He looked her straight in the eyes, with that lazy
non-chalance which had become second nature to him. She returned his
gaze for a moment, then her eyes softened, as she came up quite close
to him, to the foot of the terrace steps.
"Of the shortest, Sir Percy! Faith! how it must have
altered! Was it three years ago or four that you saw me for one hour
in Paris, on your way to the East? When you came back two years later
you had not forgotten me.


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