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A Conspiracy of the Carbonari by L. (Luise) Mühlbach
page 27 of 115 (23%)
Still she did not move, did not turn her eyes toward him, but said in a
loud, distinct voice: "You see. We are alone! What is the use of playing
this farce?"

"Well," he cried, laughing, "your answer shows that we are really alone and
need no mask. Good-day, then, Leonore, or rather good-morning, for, as I
see, you are still in your dressing-gown and probably have just risen from
your couch."

"It was four o'clock in the morning when the guests departed and I could go
to rest," she said, still retaining her recumbent attitude.

"It is true, the entertainment lasted a very long time," he cried, dropping
unceremoniously into the armchair which stood beside the divan. "Moreover,
it is true that you were an admirable hostess and understood how to do the
honors of your house most perfectly. The gentlemen were all completely
bewitched by you, and, in my character of your uncle and social guide, I
received more clasps of the hand and embraces than ever before in my whole
life."

"I can imagine how much it amused you," she said coldly and indifferently.

"Yes," he cried, laughing, "I admit that it amused me, especially when I
thought what horror and amazement would fill these haughty aristocrats who
yesterday offered me their friendship, if they knew who and what we both
really were."

"I wish they did know," she said quietly.

"Heaven forbid!" he cried, starting up. "What put such a mad, preposterous
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