Only Mademoiselle understands that if a lady should go there
she would need to be very well escorted."
She rose and slipped a coin into his hand.
"I am very much obliged to you," she said. "By the bye, have any other
people made inquiries of you concerning my brother?"
"No one at all, Mademoiselle!" the man answered.
She almost slammed the door behind when she went out.
"And they say that the French police are the cleverest in the world,"
she exclaimed indignantly.
Monsieur Alphonse watched her through the glass pane.
"_Ciel!_ But she is pretty!" he murmured to himself.
* * * * *
She turned into the writing-room, and taking off her gloves she wrote a
letter. Her pretty fingers were innocent of rings, and her handwriting
was a little shaky. Nevertheless, it is certain that not a man passed
through the room who did not find an excuse to steal a second glance at
her. This is what she wrote:--
"MY DEAR ANDREW,--I am in great distress here, and
very unhappy. I should have written to you before, but I know
that you have your own trouble to bear just now, and I hated
to bother you.
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