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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"From the Memoirs of a Minister of France"


"It is still open?" I said.
"Yes, your excellency."
"Then come, sire," I said, "I see the boy yonder. Let us ascend,
and I will undertake that before you reach the street again you
shall be not only a wiser but a richer sovereign."
"St. Gris!" he answered with alacrity. Why did you not say that
before, and I should have asked no questions. On, on, in God's
name, and the devil take Pimentel!"
I restrained the caustic jest that rose to my lips, and we
proceeded in silence down the street. The boy, whom I had espied
loitering in a doorway a little way ahead, as if the great bell
above us which had just tolled eleven had drawn him out, peered
at us a moment askance; and then, coming forward, accosted us.
But I need not detail the particulars of a conversation which was
almost word for word the same as that which had passed in the Rue
de la Pourpointerie; suffice it that he made the same request
with the same frank audacity, and that, granting it, we were in a
moment following hint up a similar staircase.


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