"Why not?" he muttered to himself. "She must be happier with me than
with that insufferable bore! I will keep my word until she herself
absolves me from it."
They had to arrange her pose against the rock. Maurice and Albert
helped her, while the Duke watched from a distance, and criticized the
effect. All at once he cried out, "That is perfect. Don't move. Now
the mechanician must mark the place to set the fetters for the hands
and feet."
Maurice stepped back by the Duke to judge of the effect.
"It is excellent," he said, looking only, thinking only as an artist.
"That child has a beauty of proportion, a dazzling grace, and the most
lovely face imaginable."
As the Duke did not speak, Maurice looked at him. He was standing
upright, leaning against a table, pale as death.
"Are you ill?" asked Maurice.
"No ... no...."
He passed his hand across his forehead and said in an unnatural voice,
"Will you see to it please, that they do not leave her suspended that
way too long? Tell Albert to raise her head, it seems to me that she
is going to faint."
He started forward.
"I will go," said Maurice, stopping him.
When the machinist finished screwing the rings in the rock Maurice
asked whether it would not be better to repeat this tableaux at once.
The Duke approved. The terrifying dragon was properly arranged on the
ground--the wonderful dragon which was the design of a renowned
sculptor and perfectly executed by Gerard in papier mache.
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