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As I stole across the room to see, Mlle. de Tavanne detached herself from the group and glided unnoticed out of the door. It was thirty feet to the stones below sure death that way. But she had given us a respite; something might yet be done. I seized M. Étienne's arm in a grip that should tell him how serious was our pass.
"Are you frightened, heart-root of mine? You need not be, mignonne. You can contrive to slip from the house Mlle. de Tavanne will help you. Once in the street, I will meet you; I will carry you home to hold you against all the world." "It is not that," she answered. "Am I your fear?" he cried quickly. "Ah, Lorance, my Lorance, you need not. I love you as I love the Queen of Heaven." "Ah, hush!"
"I do not yet hear your excuses, mademoiselle, for the introduction of a stable-boy into my salon." "I beg you to believe, madame, I am not responsible for it," she protested. "Paul, when he was here, saw fit to rally me concerning M. de Mar. Mlle. de Tavanne informed him of the count's defection and they were pleased to be merry with me over it. I vowed I could get him back if I wished.
On my retreat she did indeed move her gaze from me, but only to watch M. le Comte as a hound watches a thicket. It was a miracle that none had pounced on him before, so reckless had he been. I perceived with sickening certainty that Mlle. de Tavanne had guessed something amiss. She fairly bristled with suspicion, with knowledge. I waited from breathless moment to moment for announcement.
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