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The Man of Destiny by George Bernard Shaw
page 39 of 72 (54%)
involuntarily drops. The lady looks at him enigmatically in
tranquil silence. He throws the letter down and breaks
out into a torrent of scolding.) What do you mean? Eh? Are you at
your tricks again? Do you think I don't know what these papers
contain? I'll tell you. First, my information as to Beaulieu's
retreat. There are only two things he can do--leatherbrained
idiot that he is!--shut himself up in Mantua or violate the
neutrality of Venice by taking Peschiera. You are one of old
Leatherbrain's spies: he has discovered that he has been
betrayed, and has sent you to intercept the information at all
hazards--as if that could save him from ME, the old fool! The
other papers are only my usual correspondence from Paris, of
which you know nothing.

LADY (prompt and businesslike). General: let us make a fair
division. Take the information your spies have sent you about the
Austrian army; and give me the Paris correspondence. That will
content me.

NAPOLEON (his breath taken away by the coolness of the proposal).
A fair di-- (He gasps.) It seems to me, madame, that you have
come to regard my letters as your own property, of which I am
trying to rob you.

LADY (earnestly). No: on my honor I ask for no letter of yours--
not a word that has been written by you or to you. That packet
contains a stolen letter: a letter written by a woman to a man--a
man not her husband--a letter that means disgrace, infamy--

NAPOLEON. A love letter?
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