Read Online A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1) by Ichabod Temperance - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ichabod Temperance
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Plumtartt, Ma’am. To tell the truth, that iron box weren’t too comfortable to carry, so during the Channel crossing, I secured a short piece of lead pipe. Using steel tongs, I removed the hated relic from its chest. With a second pair of tongs I rolled the dreadful artifact up tight and shove it into the pipe. I cinched a cap down tight on either end to keep it safe.”
“Well done Mr. Temperance, though I must add, it does grant the thing the appearance of some mad anarchist’s improvised incendiary device.”
“Listen to that wind howl around the train car. That wind has followed us to the continent. Let me go first so I can assist you to the platfor...woah! Hey, the wind nearly snatched up my prized derby hat!”
“I say, disembarking the Grandiose Côte Express onto the platform of Gare Montparnasse, has an eerie familiarity to disembarking the train in Ipswich, the last night. So too is Paris caught in the supernatural panic.”
“Yes, Ma’am. There’s so much electricity in the air, I can taste copper in my mouth.”
“Mr. Temperance, listen to those newsboys hawking their papers.”
“MONSTRES CONFIRMÉS”
“LA MORTE VERTE”
“TERREURS EN ANGLETERRE”
“Let us brook no delay making for our destination, Mr. Temperance. The brief respite of peace we enjoyed during our Channel crossing and train trip could very well be concluded. I feel a sense of urgency, pushing upon us.”
Traveling by hired coach to the Northern parts of Paris, Miss Plumtartt directs us to a clubbe on the Rive Droite.
“Gee whiz, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, this sure is a swanky place you have brought us. Hang on a second while I knock the mud off my boots. I don’t want to make a bad impression on your friend.”
“Mademoiselle Plumtartt! Bonjour! What an honour it is to have you at the Da’ath Clubbe!”
“Merci, beaucoup!”
“Your servant may enter through the kitchen to await you.”
“No, no, Mr. Temperance is my guest and will accompany me.”
“But...”
“Come along, Mr. Temperance.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Gee, these stairs leading up to the lobby sure are deep and sumptuous, ain’t they, Miss Plumtartt? I feel like I’m sinking into three inches of red velvet sponge cake with every step.”
“This is one of the finest clubbes in Paris, Mr. Temperance. Here, one will find no expense has been spared in creating the most plush of environments.”
“This is a hoighty-toighty establishment all right. You could get a good sized herd of high society occultists in here.”
“Mademoiselle Plumtartt, Persephone, darling, what a delight to have you in the Clubbe tonight, my dear!”
Miss Plumtartt is approached by a tall, dashing, good looking young coloured gentleman. He gives a courtly bow and a chivalrous kiss to Miss Plumtartt’s hand.
Dang! I wish I was all sophisticated like that!
“Trevor Aeon, my dear, how wonderful to see you my dear! It has been too long! I am, however, on urgent business. Please tell me, is Monsieur Stanislas de Guaita in the residence tonight?”
“Oui, Mademoiselle, as a matter of fact, he is. I shall escort you to him and your friend may wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Oh, but Trevor, dear. I should really like for Mr. Temperance to accompany me.”
The handsome, mahogany features attempt to refrain from assuming a sour expression.
“I really shouldn’t, but I shall relent and allow him to remain here that he may enjoy the atmosphere of our comfortable lobby.”
Miss Plumtartt raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Persephone, darling. You know that if it were up to me, I would not hesitate. Any friend of yours, normally, would be openly welcomed. We do, however, have certain standards that must be enforced. I am sure your friend would not mind waiting.”
“But Trevor, my dear, it is up to you. You are in charge.”
“Oh, my. But Persephone, just look at the dreadful little specimen.”
The cultured gentleman sweeps a hand up and down to encompass and indicate
“Well done Mr. Temperance, though I must add, it does grant the thing the appearance of some mad anarchist’s improvised incendiary device.”
“Listen to that wind howl around the train car. That wind has followed us to the continent. Let me go first so I can assist you to the platfor...woah! Hey, the wind nearly snatched up my prized derby hat!”
“I say, disembarking the Grandiose Côte Express onto the platform of Gare Montparnasse, has an eerie familiarity to disembarking the train in Ipswich, the last night. So too is Paris caught in the supernatural panic.”
“Yes, Ma’am. There’s so much electricity in the air, I can taste copper in my mouth.”
“Mr. Temperance, listen to those newsboys hawking their papers.”
“MONSTRES CONFIRMÉS”
“LA MORTE VERTE”
“TERREURS EN ANGLETERRE”
“Let us brook no delay making for our destination, Mr. Temperance. The brief respite of peace we enjoyed during our Channel crossing and train trip could very well be concluded. I feel a sense of urgency, pushing upon us.”
Traveling by hired coach to the Northern parts of Paris, Miss Plumtartt directs us to a clubbe on the Rive Droite.
“Gee whiz, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, this sure is a swanky place you have brought us. Hang on a second while I knock the mud off my boots. I don’t want to make a bad impression on your friend.”
“Mademoiselle Plumtartt! Bonjour! What an honour it is to have you at the Da’ath Clubbe!”
“Merci, beaucoup!”
“Your servant may enter through the kitchen to await you.”
“No, no, Mr. Temperance is my guest and will accompany me.”
“But...”
“Come along, Mr. Temperance.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Gee, these stairs leading up to the lobby sure are deep and sumptuous, ain’t they, Miss Plumtartt? I feel like I’m sinking into three inches of red velvet sponge cake with every step.”
“This is one of the finest clubbes in Paris, Mr. Temperance. Here, one will find no expense has been spared in creating the most plush of environments.”
“This is a hoighty-toighty establishment all right. You could get a good sized herd of high society occultists in here.”
“Mademoiselle Plumtartt, Persephone, darling, what a delight to have you in the Clubbe tonight, my dear!”
Miss Plumtartt is approached by a tall, dashing, good looking young coloured gentleman. He gives a courtly bow and a chivalrous kiss to Miss Plumtartt’s hand.
Dang! I wish I was all sophisticated like that!
“Trevor Aeon, my dear, how wonderful to see you my dear! It has been too long! I am, however, on urgent business. Please tell me, is Monsieur Stanislas de Guaita in the residence tonight?”
“Oui, Mademoiselle, as a matter of fact, he is. I shall escort you to him and your friend may wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Oh, but Trevor, dear. I should really like for Mr. Temperance to accompany me.”
The handsome, mahogany features attempt to refrain from assuming a sour expression.
“I really shouldn’t, but I shall relent and allow him to remain here that he may enjoy the atmosphere of our comfortable lobby.”
Miss Plumtartt raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Persephone, darling. You know that if it were up to me, I would not hesitate. Any friend of yours, normally, would be openly welcomed. We do, however, have certain standards that must be enforced. I am sure your friend would not mind waiting.”
“But Trevor, my dear, it is up to you. You are in charge.”
“Oh, my. But Persephone, just look at the dreadful little specimen.”
The cultured gentleman sweeps a hand up and down to encompass and indicate
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