'You saw her?' said Zero. 'Beautiful, is she not? She, too, is
one of ours: a true enthusiast: nervous, perhaps, in presence of
the chemicals; but in matters of intrigue, the very soul of skill
and daring. Lake, Fonblanque, de Marly, Valdevia, such are some of
the names that she employs; her true name--but there, perhaps, I go
too far. Suffice it, that it is to her I owe my present lodging,
and, dear Somerset, the pleasure of your acquaintance. It appears
she knew the house. You see dear fellow, I make no concealment:
all that you can care to hear, I tell you openly.'
'For God's sake,' cried the wretched Somerset, 'hold your tongue!
You cannot imagine how you torture me!'
A shade of serious discomposure crossed the open countenance of
Zero.
'There are times,' he said, 'when I begin to fancy that you do not
like me. Why, why, dear Somerset, this lack of cordiality? I am
depressed; the touchstone of my life draws near; and if I fail'--he
gloomily nodded--'from all the height of my ambitious schemes, I
fall, dear boy, into contempt.
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