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"Don't you realise that my father is within hearing, and at any moment Madame Meredith may come out? How would I explain my presence in your room?" He did not answer for the moment, then: "Jean, I am worried," he said, in a troubled voice. "I cannot understand your plans they are too clever for me, and I have known men and women of great attainment. The great Bersac "
"The great Bersac is dead," she said coldly. "He was a man of such great attainments that he came to the knife. Besides, it is not necessary that you should understand my plans, François." She knew quite well what was troubling him, but she waited. "I cannot understand the letter which I wrote for you," said Mordon. "The letter in which I say Madame Meredith loved me.
I was on a run alone, with the forty "Napier," from Limoges to London, and on that particular winter's night had pulled up at the small station of Bersac to send a telegram. I had written out the message, leaving the car outside, and was walking along the platform, when the stationmaster, who had been talking with a tall, dark-haired, good-looking girl, approached me, cap in hand.
"What friends?" "Monsieur Normand." "He has been in the Conciergerie some weeks, mademoiselle." "Madame de Lentville, then." "Also in prison," answered Lafayette. "She was caught in her endeavor to leave Paris less than a week ago." "Monsieur Bersac," said Jeanne, but not speaking so readily. "In heaven, mademoiselle.
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