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James, Henry, 1843-1916

"The American"


You will be an excellent fellow always, but you will not be grateful.
But it doesn't matter, for I shall get my own fun out of it." And he
broke into an extravagant laugh. "You look puzzled," he added; "you look
almost frightened."
"It IS a pity," said Newman, "that I don't understand you. I shall lose
some very good jokes."
"I told you, you remember, that we were very strange people," Bellegarde
went on. "I give you warning again. We are! My mother is strange, my
brother is strange, and I verily believe that I am stranger than either.
You will even find my sister a little strange. Old trees have crooked
branches, old houses have queer cracks, old races have odd secrets.
Remember that we are eight hundred years old!"
"Very good," said Newman; "that's the sort of thing I came to Europe
for. You come into my programme."
"Touchez-la, then," said Bellegarde, putting out his hand. "It's a
bargain: I accept you; I espouse your cause. It's because I like you, in
a great measure; but that is not the only reason!" And he stood holding
Newman's hand and looking at him askance.
"What is the other one?"
"I am in the Opposition. I dislike some one else."
"Your brother?" asked Newman, in his unmodulated voice.
Bellegarde laid his fingers upon his lips with a whispered HUSH! "Old
races have strange secrets!" he said.


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