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"Oh, I can bear it no longer!" she cried stammeringly. "I can bear no more! Listen; four o'clock! No, no! It is too much, too much for me!" The woman seemed absolutely frantic. She paced up and down the room like a caged animal. Then she came close to Valgrand, and looked at him with an immense pity in her eyes. "Go, sir; if you believe in God, go away! Go as quickly as you can!"
What should his deportment be when he came face to face with her? That was what preoccupied the actor as he left the theatre, and made him dismiss the taxi in which he had started, before he reached his destination. Valgrand came into the room slowly, and with a trained eye for effect.
"What a dreadful thing!" said Simone Holbord perfunctorily; her attention was wandering to all the other attractions in this attractive room. A pile of letters was lying on a writing-table, and the reckless young woman began to look at the envelopes. "Just look at this pile of letters!" she cried. "How funny! Every one of them in a woman's hand! I suppose Valgrand gets all sorts of offers?"
The young woman approached, and the Comte began again for her benefit. "You have come back too recently from the Congo to be up to date with all our Paris happenings, and so you will not have noticed this little touch, but in the part that he created to-night Valgrand made himself up exactly like Gurn, the man who murdered Lord Beltham!" "Gurn?" said Mme.
"J ... K ... L ... M ... Ma ... Me ... Why, M. Valgrand " "What's the matter?" "Why, it is the street where the prison is!" "The Santé? Where Gurn is in the condemned cell?" Valgrand cocked his hat rakishly on one side. "And I have an assignation at the prison?" "Not exactly, but not far off: right opposite; yes, number 22 must be right opposite." "Right opposite the prison!"
Valgrand went on, seeming to pick his words. "You have overestimated your strength, and now perhaps you find the resemblance too startling? Do not be frightened. But your letter came to me like healing balm upon a quivering wound. For weeks, long weeks " The actor stopped, and mechanically rubbed his eyes.
"The lady paid us well to give you an hour with her," the other man put in, "but you've had more than an hour and a half, and we've got our characters and our situations to look after. So now, come along, Gurn, and don't let us have any nonsense." Valgrand, fighting hard against his overpowering sleepiness, began to have some vague comprehension of what was happening.
Lady Beltham faltered. "I beg you to excuse me, madame," the man began, "I came to " He caught sight of Gurn and pointed to him. "M. Valgrand knows me well. I am Charlot, his dresser at the theatre, and I came to I wanted to have a word stay " he took a small square parcel from his pocket. "M. Valgrand went off so hurriedly that he forgot his pocket-book, and so I came to bring it to him."
"Idiot!" laughed Valgrand. "Didn't you understand? Give me my black tie and villain's coat again." "What on earth is the matter with you?" Charlot asked with some uneasiness. "Surely you are not thinking of going?" "Not going? Why, in the whole of my career as amorist, I have never had such an opportunity before!" "It may be a hoax." "Take my word for it, I know better.
Time is getting on. Where is it?" "Where is what?" the bewildered Charlot asked. "Why, this place," Valgrand answered irritably: "this rue Messier. Look it up in the directory." Valgrand stamped impatiently up and down the room while Charlot hurriedly turned over the pages of the directory, muttering the syllables at the top of each as he ran through them in alphabetical order.
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