The Golden Circle

The Golden Circle

Roy J. Snell

4.0
Comment(s)
14
View
36
Chapters

You'll be entirely out of luck if you don’t lie right down and go to sleep!” Florence Huyler, her pal, exclaimed, making a significant gesture toward a sofa pillow which, as the little French girl had reason to know, was both heavy and hard. And Florence had muscle. Of late she had been developing herself. She had gone back to her old work as physical director in one of the many gymnasiums of this great city.

The Golden Circle CHAPTER I HER LUCKY DAY

"Friday, the thirteenth! This is my luck-e-e day!"

Petite Jeanne half sang these words as she sat bolt upright in bed and switched on the light.

"You'll be entirely out of luck if you don't lie right down and go to sleep!" Florence Huyler, her pal, exclaimed, making a significant gesture toward a sofa pillow which, as the little French girl had reason to know, was both heavy and hard. And Florence had muscle. Of late she had been developing herself. She had gone back to her old work as physical director in one of the many gymnasiums of this great city.

12

"But why?" the slim girl protested. "It is morning. I am awake. Who wants to sleep after waking up?"

"But look at the clock! Such an hour!"

Petite Jeanne looked. Then her small mouth formed a perfect circle.

"But yet I am awake!" she protested.

"You wouldn't hurt me," she pleaded, "you with your hundred and sixty pounds, and poor me, just a little bit of nothing."

No, Florence would not harm her little French friend. She adored her.

"See!" The exquisite little dancer tossed her blonde head, danced out of bed, flipped out one light, flipped on another, and then continued, "I shall be away in one little minute. This is my luckee day. I must go to dance the sun up from the lake where he has been sleeping, the lazee fellow!"

Florence turned her face to the wall.

"There's no resisting her," she whispered to herself.

"And yet many have been resisting her," she thought sorrowfully.

13

This was true. All that is life-each joy, every sorrow-must come to an end. The run of the gypsy drama in which Jeanne had played so important a role had ended in June. At first they had believed it would be easy to secure a booking for the coming season. It was not easy. Jeanne's talents were limited. No dramatic production of any sort was being prepared for the coming year which had a part she could play. They had gone from booking house to booking house, from manager to manager. All had returned Petite Jeanne's smile, but none had offered her a contract.

All this had not discouraged the little French girl in the least. She believed in what she called her "luck." Fortunate child! Who can fail if he but believes hard enough and long enough in his luck?

So, though the booking season was all but at an end and prospects were as dark as a December dawn, Jeanne was keeping up her training. Just now, two hours before dawn, she was preparing to go to the park and dance the dew off the grass while the sun came creeping up from the waters of Lake Michigan.

14

As Jeanne peered into the closet a spot of flaming red smote her eye.

"My luckee dress!" she whispered. "And this is my luckee day! Why not?"

Without further ado, she robed herself in a dress of flaming red which was as short as a circus rider's costume and decorated with so many ruffles that it was impossible to tell where dress ended and ruffles began.

After tying a broad sash of darker red about her waist, she slipped on socks that rose scarcely above her shoetops, kicked on some pumps, switched out the light and tripped down the stairs to step out into the dewy night.

There are those who are thrilled as they prowl about a city in the dead of night. Others are fascinated by the white lights that gleam before midnight. As for Petite Jeanne, she preferred the hour before dawn, when all the world is asleep. Then, like some wood nymph, she might haunt the dew-drenched park and dance to her heart's content.

15

But now, as she left her home at the edge of the park to go skipping down the deserted street, a strange feeling stole over her.

"It's the dress," she told herself.

And so it was. She had worn that dress, no, not in America at all. And yet she had called it her lucky dress.

It had been in France. Ah yes, in France, her beloved France! That was where it had brought her good fortune. There, as a girl in her early teens, she had traveled with the Gypsies and danced with her pet bear. When she danced in this flaming gown, spinning round and round until the ruffles seemed a gay windmill wheel, how the coins had come thumping in around her tiny feet!

"But now I am fourteen no more," she sighed. "And yet, perhaps it is a lucky dress for Petite Jeanne, even now. Who can tell?"

As she spoke these words half aloud, she cast a furtive glance down a dark alley. Instantly her mood changed. On her face came a look of horror. Her lithe limbs trembled. She seemed about to fall.

16

She did not fall. Instead, summoning all her courage, she went bounding down the street.

What had happened? She had seen a face, a gypsy face. It was an evil face, and one she had seen before. But not in America. In France.

She had read the look in those burning eyes. The man had seen the dress before. He could not but know the one who wore it.

"And he is bad! Bad!" she panted.

One quick glance back, and she doubled her pace. The man was coming. He was gaining.

What had she to fear from him? What had she not? Was he not the leader of a gypsy clan who bore a deadly hate for every member of the Bihari Tribe? And had she not traveled for many months with the Bihari?

She rounded a corner. Before her stood an open basement window. "Any port in a storm." With a sprightly spring she cleared the window sill and disappeared.

And then-confusion! Where was she? What had happened?

Continue Reading

Other books by Roy J. Snell

More

You'll also like

One Night With The Wrong Brother

One Night With The Wrong Brother

Tangye Wanzi
5.0

I thought I was waking up in the arms of Arthur, the man I loved. But as the morning light hit the Hamptons estate, the man buttoning his cuffs by the window turned around with eyes like chips of ice. It was Augustus Riddle, Arthur’s cruel younger brother, and I had just spent the night whispering confessions of love into the wrong man's ear. The night I thought was a beautiful beginning turned into a devastating nightmare. Instead of comfort, Gus treated me like a stain on his expensive carpet, scribbling a check for "services rendered" before shoving me into a dark service corridor to hide my existence from his brother. "How much does it cost to buy your silence?" He sneered, before leaving me barefoot in a torrential downpour while he drove away in a luxury Cadillac. Four years later, I am a struggling actress in Los Angeles, working double shifts as a barista just to keep the lights on. My life was finally stable until my roommate dragged me to a high-end dinner to meet her new "influential" boyfriend. The man sitting at the table, looking more arrogant and lethal than ever, was Augustus. He spent the entire night humiliating me, calling me a pathetic amateur and a social climber in front of my only friends. When I fled into the rain and collapsed on the sidewalk, skinning my knee until I bled, he watched from his car. He saw me clutching a plastic baggie containing the taped-together pieces of that four-year-old check—the only proof of my shame. He looked at me like roadkill, rolled up his window, and drove off into the dark. I couldn't understand why he was doing this. Why did he hate me enough to crush me, yet remember that I couldn't handle the smell of cigarette smoke? Why did he leave me bleeding in the street, only to send expensive medical supplies and coffee to my door the very next morning? "I'm moving out." I told my roommates, realizing that Gus Riddle didn't just want to destroy me; he wanted to haunt me. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out with eighty dollars to my name, finally ready to disappear into the city before he could burn the rest of my life to the ground.

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Roderic Penn
4.5

I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
The Golden Circle The Golden Circle Roy J. Snell Modern
“You'll be entirely out of luck if you don’t lie right down and go to sleep!” Florence Huyler, her pal, exclaimed, making a significant gesture toward a sofa pillow which, as the little French girl had reason to know, was both heavy and hard. And Florence had muscle. Of late she had been developing herself. She had gone back to her old work as physical director in one of the many gymnasiums of this great city.”
1

CHAPTER I HER LUCKY DAY

17/11/2017

2

CHAPTER II FROM OUT THE WRECKAGE

17/11/2017

3

CHAPTER III THE MAGIC UMBRELLA

17/11/2017

4

CHAPTER IV SIX FEROCIOUS BEARS

17/11/2017

5

CHAPTER V COFFEE FOR THREE

17/11/2017

6

CHAPTER VI THE PLACE OF CHANCE

17/11/2017

7

CHAPTER VII THE MARBLE FALCON

17/11/2017

8

CHAPTER VIII THE GYPSY GOD OF FIRE

17/11/2017

9

CHAPTER IX THE SHADOW ON THE WINDOW PANE

17/11/2017

10

CHAPTER X THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR

17/11/2017

11

CHAPTER XI HAPPY DAYS

17/11/2017

12

CHAPTER XII A FACE OF GRAY STEEL

17/11/2017

13

CHAPTER XIII THE CIRCLE OF BRASS

17/11/2017

14

CHAPTER XIV THE FLUTTER OF WINGS

17/11/2017

15

CHAPTER XV A TOUCH IN THE DARK

17/11/2017

16

CHAPTER XVI THE BATTLE OF MAXWELL STREET

17/11/2017

17

CHAPTER XVII TRAVELING MYSTERIES

17/11/2017

18

CHAPTER XVIII BAGS OF FORBIDDEN TREASURE

17/11/2017

19

CHAPTER XIX WITHIN THE HOUR GLASS

17/11/2017

20

CHAPTER XX "KIDNAPED"

17/11/2017

21

CHAPTER XXI A FALCON COMES TO LIFE

17/11/2017

22

CHAPTER XXII THE FALCON'S FLIGHT

17/11/2017

23

CHAPTER XXIII THROUGH ONE LONG NIGHT

17/11/2017

24

CHAPTER XXIV THE FALLING SAND

17/11/2017

25

CHAPTER XXV A DARK DAWN

17/11/2017

26

CHAPTER XXVI THE SAINTED BEGGAR

17/11/2017

27

CHAPTER XXVII "THIS IS OUR GOLDEN HOUR"

17/11/2017

28

CHAPTER XXVIII A QUEEN FROM ANOTHER WORLD

17/11/2017

29

CHAPTER XXIX A SHADOW FALLS

17/11/2017

30

CHAPTER XXX TILTING FLOORS

17/11/2017

31

CHAPTER XXXI THE PURSUIT

17/11/2017

32

CHAPTER XXXII A TOP-STAGE SEAT

17/11/2017

33

CHAPTER XXXIII A PRISONER ESCAPES

17/11/2017

34

CHAPTER XXXIV FLORENCE SPRINGS A SURPRISE

17/11/2017

35

CHAPTER XXXV FLORENCE GETS HER MAN

17/11/2017

36

CHAPTER XXXVI THE GOLDEN TRIUMPH

17/11/2017