E-Books for you

Scaramouche's shrug was eloquent. Polichinelle ran on gloomily:
"Of course it was to have been foreseen. But why should you be the
one to go? It is you who have made us; and it is you who are the
real head and brains of the troupe; it is you who have raised it
into a real theatrical company. If any one must go, let it be
Binet - Binet and his infernal daughter. Or if you go, name of a
name! we all go with you!"
"Aye," added Rhodomont, "we've had enough of that fat scoundrel."
"I had thought of it, of course," said Andre-Louis. "It was not
vanity, for once; it was trust in your friendship. After to-night
we may consider it again, if I survive."
"If you survive?" both cried.
Polichinelle got up. "Now, what madness have you in mind?" he
asked.
"For one thing I think I am indulging Leandre; for another I am
pursuing an old quarrel."
The three knocks sounded as he spoke.
"There, I must go. Keep that paper, Polichinelle. After all, it
may not be necessary."
He was gone. Rhodomont stared at Polichinelle.


Pages:
348 349 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 357 358 359 360 361 362 363 364 365 366 367 368 369 370 371 372