You have foiled me, blindfolded
me and all others, these three years past. You have intrigued
against the captains of intrigue, you have matched yourself against
practised astuteness. On one side, I resent being made a fool and
tool of; on the other, I am lost in admiration of your talent. But
henceforth there is no such thing as quarter between us. Your lover
shall die, and I will come again. This whim of the Grande Marquise
will last but till I see her; then I will return to you--forever.
Your lover shall die, your love's labour for him shall be lost. I
shall reap where I did not sow--his harvest and my own. I am as ice
to you, mademoiselle, at this moment; I have murder in my heart. Yet
warmth will come again. I admire you so much that I will have you
for my own, or die. You are the high priestess of diplomacy; your
brain is a statesman's, your heart is a vagrant; it goes covertly
from the sweet meadows of France to the marshes of England, a taste
unworthy of you. You shall be redeemed from that by Tinoir Doltaire.
Now thank me for all I have done for you, and let me say adieu.'
He stooped and kissed my hand. 'I can not thank you for what I
myself achieved,' I said.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114