Gaston Leroux

“ Patrice closed his window and sank into a chair. He could no longer doubt the hideous fact: they had wanted, they still wanted to murder him! . . . And the reason was simple enough: he had a rival! . . .
It was a rude shock for a young man who had always dreamt of leading a calm, prosaic life. He found himself crushed under the weight of this romantic and dangerous position; and, though his love for Madeleine was greater than anything, greater even than his fright, he resolved to leave the district the very next day, the examining magistrate notwithstanding. ”

“ She begs you to forgive Noël."
"Let Noël out," said Coriolis, giving Gertrude a key. "He's in the black hole. I think I hit him rather hard. But it's his own fault. He ought to have more sense, at his age."
"Oh, he takes it very much to heart, sir, when you're cross with him. Zoé will be so pleased. He always makes her laugh."
And she went off with the key. A few minutes later, Zoé was heard screaming with laughter in the kitchen. Coriolis looked at Patrice:
"Do you hear them? It's Noël amusing them," he said. "Oh, he never bears malice. He wouldn't hurt a fly! ”

“ You're always chaffing him. You'll end by making the boy's life a misery," said Coriolis emphatically, forgetting the drubbing which he himself had just administered to Noël.
They finished their dinner. It was now dark. Uncle Coriolis thought that Patrice must be feeling tired and told him to go to bed. The young man obeyed, said good-night and held out his hand to Madeleine.
"You can kiss her!" said Coriolis.
Patrice put his lips to Madeleine's forehead. And he could not help thinking to himself:
"It's sure to thunder!"
But Madeleine received Patrice' kiss and there was no thunder. ”

“ He had been to the Black Sun and had words with Blondel. They had both insulted each other. It wasn't the first time either: they nearly fought at the elections. . . ."
"Hubert is only too glad to fight with anybody. It means nothing. . . ."
"Do you think so, miss? That's all right, then. He frightens me, though. . . . When I heard him shouting like that, I went to bed. . . ."
"Is that true? Did you go to bed?"
"I swear I did, miss. I told the magistrate so this afternoon. . . ."
"Still, it was your voice that made them open the door. . . . You must know who it is that imitates your voice. . . ”

“ He'd have died of starvation, but for me."
"Does he never hanker after his country?"
"He does nothing but speak of it," said Gertrude, changing the plates.
"That's always the danger with those exotic servants," said Patrice, sententiously. "You can do what you like with them; they are regular slaves; but a time comes when there's no holding them. They must and will go home again."
"Where have you seen that?" asked Coriolis, with obvious annoyance. ”

“ Madeleine!"
"What was Élie doing all that time?"
"I don't know! . . ."
"So you won't tell me the truth'! . . . Very well, we're going away and we'll leave you behind. . . . I don't want to have anything more to do with you! . . ."
"Oh, please, miss! . . ."
"You're not such a dainty bit of goods as to make us want to take you. It's no use giving you clothes: you wear them once and then there's nothing left of them but rags. . . . You're only a little forest gadabout. . . . You're never happy exce pt when you're climbing up the trees. . . . I've no use for you. . . . ”

“ On his right, in an angle of the building, he saw the belvedere-turret, the top room of which was already lighted for Coriolis, who had settled down to work, as usual.
In front of Patrice was the yard, with the outhouses, the stables, buildings that now served no purpose save for the household washing and for storing apples. A little to the left, almost beneath him, was another little building, the wood-shed, with its dark archway. It was a dusky night ”

“ She can work when she likes to and when she's not taking it into her head to go running about the woods. We should soon train her in town, especially if she saw no trees and as soon as she was away from the forest. ”