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He was the rock, Josiana was the waif. Josiana was about to be dashed
against Barkilphedro, to his intense villainous ecstasy.
He was clever in the art of suggestion, which consists in making in the
minds of others a little incision into which you put an idea of your
own. Holding himself aloof, and without appearing to mix himself up in
the matter, it was he who arranged that Josiana should go to the Green
Box and see Gwynplaine. It could do no harm. The appearance of the
mountebank, in his low estate, would be a good ingredient in the
combination; later on it would season it.
He had quietly prepared everything beforehand. What he most desired was
something unspeakably abrupt. The work on which he was engaged could
only be expressed in these strange words--the construction of a
thunderbolt.
All preliminaries being complete, he had watched till all the necessary
legal formalities had been accomplished. The secret had not oozed out,
silence being an element of law.
The confrontation of Hardquanonne with Gwynplaine had taken place.
Barkilphedro had been present. We have seen the result.
The same day a post-chaise belonging to the royal household was suddenly
sent by her Majesty to fetch Lady Josiana from London to Windsor, where
the queen was at the time residing.
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