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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"The House of the Wolf; a romance"


She laid her hand on it, but she stood still.
"M. de Caylus," she said; and at that stopped. Naturally I
looked at her, and our eyes met. Hers brown and beautiful,
shining in the light of the lamp overhead looked into mine. Her
lips were half parted, and one fair tress of hair had escaped
from her hood. "M. de Caylus, will you do me a favour," she
resumed, softly, "a favour for which I shall always be grateful?"
I sighed. "Madame," I said earnestly, for I felt the solemnity
of the occasion, "I swear that in ten minutes, if the task I now
have in hand be finished I will devote my life to your service.
For the present--"
"Well, for the present? But it is the present I want, Master
Discretion."
"I must see M. de Pavannes! I am pledged to it," I ejaculated.
"To see M. de Pavannes?"
"Yes."
I was conscious that she was looking at me with eyes of doubt,
almost of suspicion.
"Why? Why?" she asked with evident surprise. "You have
restored--and nearly frightened me to death in doing it--his wife
to her home; what more do you want with him, most valiant knight-
errant?"
"I must see him," I said firmly.


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