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The Salamander

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 3124    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

sit of representatives of one of the royal houses of Europe, traveling under the title of the Comte and Comtesse de Joncy. A banquet had been

Imperial Highness Alexis. Twenty-five young gentlemen of irreproachable standing had flung themselves enthusiastically at the distinguished honor of offering soup to such exalted p

oon that, in his quality of traveler and student of important social manifestations, what had imp

observation from the Comte de Joncy's last royal predecessor. The present luncheon was the prompt response, and

re to show themselves ladies of the highest fashion. The curtains were open on the cozy dining-room, on the spectacle of shining linen, the spark of silver and the gay color of fragrant bouquets. Two or three waiters were giving the la

bored and desperate world, active as a young girl, bald at thirty, but with a radiating charm, disliking no one, never failing in zest, animating the surface of gaiety, blind to ugliness below, well born and indispensable; Garret Lindaberry, known better as "Garry" Lindaberry, not yet thirty, framed like a frontiersman, with a head molded for a statesman, endowed with every mental energy except necessity, burning up his superb vitality in insignificant supremacies, a magnificent man-of-war sailing without a rudder, supremely elegant; never, in the wildest orgies, relaxing the control of absolute courtesy; finally, Harrigan Blood, interloper

r relaxed their supremacy from colonial days; Lindaberry and Busby were inheritors in the third generation of that first period of industrial adventure, the period of the gold-fields of 1845, while Harrigan Blood was of the present era of volcanic opportunity, that create

, the jaw less and less accentuated. Of the second, the type of the roughly arriving adventurer, Harrigan Blood was the ideal. His was the solid, crust-breaking, boulder type of head, embedded on shoulders capabl

her group, was discussing the coming political campaign with Massingale,-

ndering eye flitting a moment to th

efore his eyes," said the count, with a sardon

ly. "We make him a partner in our

hat type doesn't love money! When he gets as

assoon, without looking at his companion and speaking as if

eaching the ears of Harrigan Blood, made of hi

iplomacy," he said, studying

aid, without animation. He ran a thin forefinger over the scarce mustache that mount

y, hurry thi

m Jove, departed lightly in the dir

ng in his beaky nose and wide grinning mou

urrounded and assail

why didn't y

al Hig

ng!-not t

ye call

ickled t

ell you for a damn good reason. No press-agent stunts before or after. Unders

is," said one in a whisper to a

p you down in a service elevator, and see you get the operat

it out of the poipers? W

after," said

ed, perceiving Doré, who floated i

," said Adèle Vickers hast

inous hats and sweeping feathers, their overloaded bodices and jeweled necks, studied

aid Miss Vickers

porter?" said B

rs vehemently. "She's on the stage, the

e full name, and going to her, he said: "Met you at

er vexation, sailing under her own

's just a lark, and," she added l

ge nam

ke a head-liner?" she added confidentially, in the l

himself, yielding to his sense of hu

shall we

!... Have any of you girls changed your names since I saw you last?... No?... Then I know them!..." He t

te Irish brunette, with a saucy

t? Fine!... A press-agent would charge for that!... I see an inch of nose,

said a southern type

yson was, little dears?... A great scientist who discovered the reason why brooks go on forever!" Adèle and Doré smiled, but t

said a fair buxom type, child of

ng an arm to Adèle Vickers and Vi

rried applications of rouge, and a loosening of perfumes, while, above the plea

girls! Ac

sted on keeping a magnificent sable cape, which

he Comte de Joncy, who had begun to be restless under the strain of serious conversation, brightened vi

his one. What a naughty little eye! Oho! something Spanish-do you dance th

es of the chorus, very stiff, very co

o meet you

an unexpecte

ost glad t

and presently the room resoun

bly late!... New York s

weather, don

iew!... I dote on

en Péléas an

er words with difficulty, was

Mr. Blood!... I'm tick ...

come by this flood of ma

awe me! You are sure it is no mistake?

Sassoon, rais

ved with a tray of cocktails, sc

! Come on, Consuelo, you've aired your furs enough; send them back-yo

wing orange tree. She raised her eyes suddenly to Massingale's. He had detected the movement, and was smiling.

n," he said, without reference to w

that he would

lders. "Of course, I haven't kept my full name-my full name is Rowena Robsart Tennyson; but

wh

French, y

t her steadily with a little lurkin

judicial look, half inquisitorial, half amused. Nevertheless, she continued w

r! Do you like our sh

he said, with ma

n by that? I'm s

e in place of your si

continuing it. She was easily impressed, especially at a first meeting, and she

een in the sextette

your ambiti

n't think tragedy's in my complexion, do you? I dote on

serious?" he

" she continued, allowing her great blue troubling eyes to remain on his. "I s

ips to keep

e-there's more opportunit

onsidering her fixed

rasure of a window wit

uite wonderfu

ably rooted to the soil, caged in the full tide of labor, gave an exquisite sense of luxury to this banquet among the clouds. To the south a light bank of fog, low and spreading, was eating up the horizon of water and distant shore,

" He continued, his eyes lit up by a flash of imagination that revealed the youth still in his features: "It is Babylon, Assyria

nd, still neglected, was not without perceptions, ready to be

the Egyptian hordes beneath t

t intere

s interesting," he said, with a smile that com

ot one of-" she

and in his eyes was the same look of del

was perfect. I quite understand

dining-room. She followed, watching him covert

splay of mannered stateliness, the men listened

into gaiety; your German begins to sing only when he has drunk up a river of beer; but your American-he's different! What do we do? We've won or we've lost-we've got to rejoice or forget-it's all the same. We bolt to a bar a

mad geniuses of the press, he drank enormously, fe

lf with a view to future authorship, "A cockta

make a reputation with a stroke of his pen, acclaimed this sally with exagg

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