When Pascale Auber is forced out of the airship of the evil Dr. Simpelstur, she finds herself rescued by a handsome Ruritanian diplomat, Theo von Hentzau. Pascale soon realizes that Theo is hiding something - something to do with the evil doctor, th...
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By the time I pounded on the green stage door in the alleyway behind the Aosta, it was raining. I was not dressed for the rain, and I could feel the cold damp seeping through my pale-blue jacket,emphasized by large drops of water rolling off my straw hat and landing icily on my shoulders. I would later find that the blue felt flowers that decorated the hat were quite soaked out of shape.
Before the door opened, though, I heard a familiar voice. "Why, Miss Auber!"
I turned to see Theo von Hentzau, holding an umbrella in silk-gloved hands above a black silk opera hat. He viewed me with concern; I viewed him with relief. Hentzau could definitely talk them into letting me into the theatre, even if Blaise did not wish to see me.
"Th-" I began, but rapidly remembered myself. "Mr. von Hentzau! I'm so glad you're here!"
He pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket. "You are quite damp, Miss Auber," he said, smiling. "I came to check in on Miss Silverstar, but I am rather more gratified to have found you here."
"Never mind that," I said, "Help me get the attention of whomever's on the other side of this door!"
Still looking amused, Hentzau languidly raised a gloved hand to rap upon the door I'd been mistreating. "D'you know," he began, "if you just wait -"
Hentzau trailed off, looking over my shoulder as he raised his eyebrows in an expression of welcome. Before I could turn around to see the approaching person, the eyebrows crashed back down into a glower. As if we were dancing an inept quadrille, I turned to see the cause of the trouble as Hentzau stepped forward, then pushed me back, so that I was up against the damp, brick wall and he stood, protectively, in front of me.
We were being approached by a pretty, young blonde woman dressed against the rain in a waterproof cloak, leaning on the arm of a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and an extravagant moustache. I recognized both of them at once. The woman, of course, was Cartimandua Silverstar. The man -
