by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
ISBN 0217937780 (0-217-93778-0)
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Softcover, RareBooksClub.com, 2012
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Book summary: This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1904 edition. Excerpt: ...Dominique knows that I know; and his misery seems to give him some hold over me." "In what way can I help you, mademoiselle?" "Did I ask you to help me?" She had resumed her seat on the gun-carriage, and, drawing Sergeant Barboux's tunic off its gun, began with her embroidery scissors to snip at the shanks of its breastbuttons. His cheeks were burning now; she spoke with a strained accent of levity. "I called you, monsieur, to say that I cannot, of course, copy these buttons, and to ask if you consent to my using them on your new tunic, or if you prefer to put up with plain ones. But it appears that I have wandered to some distance from my question." She attempted a laugh; which, however, failed dolefully. "Decidedly I prefer any buttons to those. But, excuse me," persisted John, drawing nearer, "though you asked for no help and need none, yet I will not believe you have honoured me so far with your confidence and all without purpose." "Oh," she replied, still in the same tone of hard, almost contemptuous, levity. "I had a whim, monsieur, to be understood by you, that is all; and perhaps to rebuke you by contrast for telling us so little of yourself. It is as Felicite said--you messieurs of the army keep yourselves well padded over the heart. See here--" She began to dig with her scissor-point and lay bare the quilting within Barboux's tunic, but presently stopped, with a sharp cry. "What is the matter, mademoiselle?" For a second or two she snipped furiously, and then: "This is the matter!" she cried, plunging her fingers within the lining. "A despatch! He carried one, after all!" She dragged forth a paper and held it up in triumph. "Give it to me, please. But I say that you must and shall, mademoiselle!" John's head swam, but he stepped and...
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