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The rebuilding of their loved "altars of Mammon" begins. The foreign colony, disturbed like a flock of gulls on a lonely rock, flutters back as soon as the battle blast is over. Aristide Dauvray finds instant promotion in his calling. The hiding Communists are hunted down and swell the vast crowd of wretches in the Orangery. Already, all tribunals are busy.
Cook who was secured in this way, and then remarkable things, which I could not believe, were supposed to have happened?" "Certainly I permit it," said Celia, with indifference; and Mme. Dauvray cried enthusiastically: "Ah, you shall believe tonight in those wonderful things!" Adele Tace leaned back. She drew a breath. It was a breath of relief. "Then we will buy the cord in Aix," she said.
But a few minutes later, in the Rue du Casino, she and Mme. Dauvray were seen together, walking slowly in the direction of the villa. No other woman was with them." "That is a pity," said Hanaud quietly, and with a gesture he dismissed Perrichet. "You see, we shall find out nothing nothing," said Wethermill, with a groan.
She wished to produce in the minds of her companions so complete an impression of her scepticism that it would seem the most natural thing in the world to both of them that she should insist upon subjecting Celia to the severest tests. The rain ceased, and they took their coffee on the terrace of the hotel. Mme. Dauvray had been really pained by the conversation of Adele Tace.
If she had had the courage to tell him yesterday, he would have forgiven, surely he would! The tears gathered in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. What would become of her now? She was in pain besides. The cords about her arms and ankles tortured her. And she feared yes, desperately she feared the effect of the exposure upon Mme. Dauvray.
The load of care and strife has been taken from the shoulders of the three elders, who gravely watch the four glowing and enraptured lovers. In a few weeks, Raoul Dauvray and his bride leave for San Francisco. Fittingly they choose France for their home. In San Francisco, Joseph Woods leads the young bride through the silent halls of the old house on the hill.
"Why should I seek her so often if I did not care?" And to this question Helene Vauquier smiled a quiet, slow, confidential smile. "What does monsieur want of Mme. Dauvray?" she asked. And the question was her answer. Wethermill stood silent. Then he said abruptly: "Nothing, of course; nothing." And he walked away. But the smile remained on Helene Vauquier's face. What did they all want of Mme.
But now they were together; now they were talking. The first step had been taken. Adele Tace had scraped acquaintance with Mme. Dauvray. Celia saw them almost at the same moment. "Oh, there is Mme. Dauvray," she cried, taking a step towards her. Wethermill detained the girl. "She seems quite happy," he said; and, indeed, Mme.
Yet around Madame de Santos a web of intrigue is woven, which even her own keen eyes do not ferret out. Strange woman-heart. Lonely and defiant, yet blind, she thinks she guards her control of the budding heiress, "Isabel Valois." Waiting? In the studio, handsome Raoul Dauvray bends glowing eyes on the clay which models the classic beauty of Isabel Valois.
And, in truth, she was not afraid of them. Mme. Dauvray's voice at once took courage. "There!" she cried triumphantly. "I was sure. I told her so. Celie, I arranged with her that next Tuesday " And Celia interrupted quickly. "No! Oh, no!" Again there was silence; and then Mme. Dauvray said gently, but very seriously: "Celie, you are not kind." Celia was moved by the reproach.
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