The Magician's Wife (A William Abrahams Book)

The Magician's Wife (A William Abrahams Book)

Brian Moore

Language: English

Pages: 240

ISBN: 0452279593

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Based upon an actual incident from the early days of the French imperialist drive into North Africa, Brian Moore's latest bestseller, The Magician's Wife tells a profound story of political will in conflict with spiritual belief--and of one woman's desires and convictions. Summoned to the grand country estate of Napoleon III, the famed illusionist Henri Lambert and his wife Emmeline are drawn into an elaborate plan to further French influence in North Africa and subdue the rebellious Arab tribes. An ambitious, intelligent man, Lambert will go to desperate lengths to satisfy his emperor. Emmeline, meanwhile, undergoes a spiritual conversion, shedding her former notions of patriotism and propriety in the hot glare of the desert sun. From the splendor and intrigue of the French royal court of the 1850s to the wild majesty of the Sahara, The Magician's Wife is an exciting, exotic, and glamorously seductive novel.

Mary l'Irlandaise

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Une jeune femme en guerre, Tome 2: Printemps 1944 - été 1945




















send me back to Tours with that old servant, she’ll take care of me, he doesn’t have to come, he can stay on for the rest of the week, showing off, talking to the Emperor about whatever it is they want him to do, anyway he’s angry with me, he was furious this morning when I was late for lunch and when I didn’t want to go to the chasse à tir. No one will miss me. I’ll go to bed now. Tomorrow morning, I’ll leave. The phaeton rumbled through the great arches, leading to the central courtyard. As it

drum. At 11 a.m. when they had washed and changed, a servant appeared to tell them that they were invited to luncheon with the Governor-General’s principal secretary, Monsieur de la Garde. The meal was served in a shuttered dining room cooled by fans, wielded by Negro servants. The food was French and in addition to Monsieur de la Garde there were present three senior diplomatic officers and their wives. The conversation, after some initial welcoming pleasantries, turned quickly to Maréchal

spread along one wall was a profusion of silken cushions with, in front of them, two long painted trays spread with sweetmeats, fruits, a crystal decanter and glasses. Deniau sat cross-legged on the cushions, inviting her to join him. He poured wine from the decanter, saying, ‘Alcohol, of course, is not permitted in a Moorish house. But then, we are not Muslims, thank God.’ He handed her a glass. ‘Remember Compiègne? Our Brüderschaft toast? Shall we?’ She did not want to do this but did not

‘Monsieur will be here shortly,’ the sergeant told her. ‘Everything is ready as he requested.’ As she sat drinking coffee from a tin mug Emmeline saw, through the main archway of the fort, a commotion of camels in the streets outside. She watched their drivers make them kneel by tapping them with sticks just below the knees. Other drivers shouted to each other over a sea of camel backs, the camels’ heads swaying this way and that, as swollen packs, planks, canteens, and crates bearing Arabic

sickroom she moved away from the bedside, but stood in the rear, listening to what was said. After congratulations and praise, Deniau told him: ‘Henri, we’re planning to leave tomorrow. Did Emmeline tell you? I know she’s against it but – ’ ‘No, no, she told me and I agree completely with your idea.’ ‘I’m glad. It would be a pity to spoil things. Besides, the doctor thinks you’ll manage quite nicely as long as you don’t use your right arm. Well, of course, you can’t use it just now, can you?

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