Last
Tuesday week I remember perfectly well. It was a quiet evening. La Scala
was here--but of the rest no one. If Mademoiselle's brother was here it
is most strange."
Her lip quivered for a moment. She was disappointed.
"I am so sorry," she said. "I hoped that you might have been able to
help me. He left the Grand Hotel on that night with the intention of
coming here--and he never returned. I have been very much worried ever
since."
She was no great judge of character, but Monsieur Albert's sympathy did
not impress her with its sincerity.
"If Mademoiselle desires," he said, "I will make inquiries amongst the
waiters. I very much fear, however, that she will obtain no news here."
He departed, and Phyllis watched him talking to some of the waiters and
the leader of the orchestra.
Presently he returned.
"I am very sorry," he announced, "but the brother of Mademoiselle could
not have come here. I have inquired of the garcons, and of Monsieur
Jules there, who forgets no one. They answer all the same."
"Thank you very much," she answered. "It must have been somewhere else!"
She was unreasonably disappointed. It had been a very slender chance,
but at least it was something tangible.
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