Prev | Current Page 108 | Next

Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Uncle Bernac A Memory of the Empire"


Never have I seen such a recklessness of passion as blazed in her dry
wide-opened eyes.
'You have deceived others, but you have never deceived me,' she cried.
'I know you as your own conscience knows you. You may murder me, as you
murdered my mother before me, but you can never frighten me into being
your accomplice. You proclaimed yourself a Republican that you might
creep into a house and estate which do not belong to you. And now you
try to make a friend of Buonaparte by betraying your old associates, who
still trust in you. And you have sent Lucien to his death! But I know
your plans, and my Cousin Louis knows them also, and I can assure you
that there is just as much chance of his agreeing to them as there is of
my doing so. I'd rather lie in my grave than be the wife of any man but
Lucien.'
'If you had seen the pitiful poltroon that he proved himself you would
not say so,' said my uncle coolly. 'You are not yourself at present,
but when you return to your right mind you will be ashamed of having
made this public exposure of your weakness.


Pages:
96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120