Pierre Souvestre & Marcel Allain
A Nest of Spies: Fantômas Saga
Published by
Books
- Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -
2018 OK Publishing
ISBN 978-80-272-4631-1
Table of Contents
IX WITH THE UNDER-SECRETARY OF STATE
XI THE HOODED CLOAK OF FANTÔMAS
XII A TRICK ACCORDING TO FANDOR
XV THE TRAITOR'S APPRENTICESHIP
XVII IN THE STRONGHOLD OF THE ENEMY
XXIV AN APPETISER AT ROBERT'S BAR
I
SUDDEN DEATH
She sought in vain!
The young woman, who was finishing her toilette, lost patience. With a look of annoyance she half turned round, crying, "Well, Captain, it is easy to see that you are not accustomed to women's ways!"
This pretty girl's lover, a man about forty, with an energetic countenance, and a broad forehead adorned with sparse locks, was smoking a Turkish cigarette, taking his ease on a divan at the far end of the room.
He jumped up as if moved by a spring.
For some time the captain had followed with his eyes the gestures of his graceful mistress; like a good and attentive lover he guessed what she required. He rushed into the adjoining dressing-room and returned with a little onyx cup in which was a complete assortment of pins.
"There, my pretty Bobinette!" he cried, coming up to the young woman. "This will put me into your good graces again."
She thanked him with a smile; took the needed pins from the cup, and quietly finished dressing.
Bobinette was a red-haired beauty.
The thick braids of her abundant tresses, with their natural waves and curls, fell to where the lines of neck and shoulders meet, their tawny hues enhancing the milky whiteness of her plump flesh. This young creature was of the true Rubens type.
It was half past three in the afternoon of a dull November day. A kind of twilight was darkening the ground floor flat in the quiet rue de Lille, where the two lovers were together.
For some months now Captain Brocq had been on intimate terms with this intoxicating young person, who answered to the nickname "Bobinette." Her features, though irregular, were pleasing. Sprung from the people, Bobinette had tried to remedy this by becoming a past mistress of postures, of attitudes. Like others of her kind, from her very childhood she had learned to adapt herself to whatever company she was in, picking up almost intuitively those shades of taste, of tact, which can transform the most unconsidered daughter of the people into the most fastidious of Parisiennes.
It