The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation by J. S. (Joseph Smith) Fletcher
page 63 of 298 (21%)
page 63 of 298 (21%)
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waistcoat seemed to have assumed careworn creases, his mop of blonde hair
was palpably rumpled as if he had been endeavouring to tear some of its wavy locks out by force. And when he spoke his fat voice shook with a mixture of chagrin and anger. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I crave ten thousand--a million--pardons for this so-unheard-of state of affairs! The--the truth is, Mademoiselle de Longarde is not yet here. What is more--I have to tell you the truth--Mademoiselle refuses to come--refuses to fulfil her honourable engagement. We are--have been for some time--on the telephone with her. Mademoiselle is at her hotel. She declares she has been robbed--her jewels have all been stolen from their case in her apartments. She is--how shall I say?--turning the hotel upside down! She refuses to budge one inch until her jewels are restored to her. How then?--I cannot restore her jewels. I say to her--my colleagues say to her--it is not your jewels we desire--it is your so beautiful, so incomparable voice. She reply--I cannot tell you what she reply! In effect--no jewels, no song! Ladies and gentlemen, once more!--your most kind, most considerate indulgence! I go there just now--I fly; swift, to the hotel, to entreat Mademoiselle on my knees to return with me! In the meantime--" As Weiss retired from the platform, and the longhaired 'cellist came upon it, Fullaway sprang up, dragging Allerdyke after him. He led the way to a sidedoor, whispered something to an attendant, and was quickly ushered through another door to an ante-room behind the wings, where Weiss, livid with anger, was struggling into an opera-cloak. The concert-director gasped as he caught sight of the American. "Ah, my dear Mr. Fullaway!" he exclaimed. "You here! You have heard?--you |
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