Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo
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Оглавление
Le Queux William. Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo
FIRST CHAPTER. THE SUICIDE’S CHAIR
SECOND CHAPTER. CONCERNS A GUILTY SECRET
THIRD CHAPTER. IN THE NIGHT
FOURTH CHAPTER. WHAT THE DOSSIER CONTAINED
FIFTH CHAPTER. ON THE HOG’S BACK
SIXTH CHAPTER. FACING THE UNKNOWN
SEVENTH CHAPTER. FROM DARK TO DAWN
EIGHTH CHAPTER. THE WHITE CAVALIER
NINTH CHAPTER. CONCERNS THE SPARROW
TENTH CHAPTER. A LESSON IN ARGOT
ELEVENTH CHAPTER. MORE ABOUT THE SPARROW
TWELFTH CHAPTER. THE STRANGER IN BOND STREET
THIRTEENTH CHAPTER. POISONED LIPS
FOURTEENTH CHAPTER. RED DAWN
FIFTEENTH CHAPTER. THE NAMELESS MAN
SIXTEENTH CHAPTER. THE ESCROCS OF LONDON
SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER. ON THE SURREY HILLS
EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER. THE MAN WITH THE BLACK GLOVE
NINETEENTH CHAPTER. THE SPARROW
TWENTIETH CHAPTER. THE MAN WHO KNEW
TWENTY-FIRST CHAPTER. THE MAN WITH MANY NAMES
TWENTY-SECOND CHAPTER. CLOSING THE NET
TWENTY-THIRD CHAPTER. WHAT LISETTE KNEW
TWENTY-FOURTH CHAPTER. FRIEND OR ENEMY?
TWENTY-FIFTH CHAPTER. THE MAN CATALDI
TWENTY-SIXTH CHAPTER. LISETTE’S DISCLOSURES
TWENTY-SEVENTH CHAPTER. THE INQUISITIVE MR. SHRIMPTON
TWENTY-EIGHTH CHAPTER. THE SPARROW’S NEST
TWENTY-NINTH CHAPTER. THE STORY OF MADEMOISELLE
CONCLUSION
Отрывок из книги
Just after seven o’clock that same evening young Henfrey and his friend Brock met in the small lounge of the Hotel des Palmiers, a rather obscure little establishment in the Avenue de la Costa, behind the Gardens, much frequented by the habitues of the Rooms who know Monte Carlo and prefer the little place to life at the Paris, the Hermitage, and the Riviera Palace, or the Gallia, up at Beausoleil.
The Palmiers was a place where one met a merry cosmopolitan crowd, but where the cocotte in her bright plumage was absent—an advantage which only the male habitue of Monte Carlo can fully realize. The eternal feminine is always so very much in evidence around the Casino, and the most smartly dressed woman whom one might easily take for the wife of an eminent politician or financier will deplore her bad luck and beg for “a little loan.”
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Brock did not turn up at dinner. Indeed, he did not expect his friend back till late. So he ate his meal alone, and then went out to the Cafe de Paris, where for an hour he sat upon the terrasse smoking and listening to the weird music of the red-coated orchestra of Roumanian gipsies.
All the evening, indeed, he idled, chatting with men and women he knew. Carmen was being given at the Opera opposite, but though he loved music he had no heart to go. The one thought obsessing him was of the handsome and fascinating woman who was such a mystery to all.
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