She was never
without a cigarette, lighting a fresh one always from its predecessor,
talking all the while unceasingly, but without the slightest change of
expression. Once she waved the men and girls who stood talking to her on
one side, and Duncombe fancied that it was because she desired a better
view of him.
Suddenly he was startled by a voice close at hand. He looked up. The
woman at the desk was speaking to him.
"Monsieur would be well advised," she said, "if he departed."
Duncombe looked at her in amazement. She was writing rapidly in her
book, and her eyes were fixed upon her work. If he had not actually
heard her, it would have been hard to believe that she had spoken.
"But why, Madame?" he asked. "Why should I go? I am in no one's way. I
can pay for what I have."
She dipped her pen in the ink.
"I know nothing of Monsieur or his business," she said, still without
even glancing towards him, "but I know that Monsieur Albert does not
wish him to remain."
"The devil take Monsieur Albert!" Duncombe answered angrily. "I am
waiting to speak to some one who comes here regularly, and I shall stay
until she comes.
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