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From: | Rebecca Page |
Subject: | [Iris-user] poacher |
Date: | Sun, 10 Sep 2006 10:08:28 +0900 |
![]() He had left Sancho in Paris some monthsbefore to
keep track of Ouvrard.
He was received at court and bythe
nobility.
Let no one disturb us, Don Diego, said Don Manuel.
He looked down his nose while the ministerssquabbled. Ouvrard sickened a little on
these occasions. I leave it toyou to close it, if you will, for both of us and with
honour.
He could not trace it downinto the dark depths of
intuition. The dark ring could be lefthanging in space. The Frenchman could
betrusted to see that the bullion was actually shipped.
Apollo himself would be a mere glow-worm here,
acknowledged deCalincourt, impressed at last.
He even had to laugh when he was punched in theribs
in a familiar way.
Ouvrard sickened a little on these occasions. I
shall be closeted with this gentleman for sometime.
Need I say that in that case you are welcome to
thishungry Madrid and to Spain?
That they inhere in the past is so obvious as to
beinescapable.
I have never desired to trouble you, Don Luis. His
composite memory of them was that of the _expression_ ofSpain. There was nothing dim
or chaste orvirtuous about him. A sound from theland of the living recalled
him.
Godoy could by somepersonal magic dispel
this.
And there is one thing more, said Don
Luis.
He was blessed in the streets by the populace
andfollowed about. So they were going to kill thee, little bullkin, said one. His
composite memory of them was that of the _expression_ ofSpain.
Ouvrard was still in the flesh, perhaps he himself
wouldnot find it necessary to go to Mexico. Nevertheless, I hope we may arrive at an
understanding. He saw it, like a spinning noose in a cloud. I have never desired to
trouble you, Don Luis. No questions as to whose it was would then
arise.
Its roots went down into the darkness beyond reason
ormemory whence bitter juices are drawn.
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