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Updated: May 27, 2025
Once more, before he spoke, he looked behind to where Bartot's back was still turned. "For monsieur," he whispered, setting the wine list upon the table, and under it the note. I nodded, and he hastened away. At that moment Bartot turned and came down the room. As he approached he looked at me once more, as though, for some reason or other, he was more than ordinarily interested in my presence.
He laughed hardly. "'Intrude'!" he cried. "One does not call it that. 'Intrude, when I find you two together, eh?" I turned to the girl, who, with her handkerchief dabbed to her eyes, was still affecting a perfect frenzy of fear. "Has this person any claims upon you?" I asked. "He seems to me to be an exceedingly disagreeable fellow." Bartot's face grew purple.
Perhaps there were blows?" "Nothing of the sort," I answered. "Bartot blustered a little and mademoiselle wrung her hands, but they played their parts badly. Between you and me, Louis, I have a sort of an idea that Bartot's coming was not altogether accidental." "It was a trap," Louis murmured softly. "But why?" I shook my head.
"There are other ways of seeking adventures," Louis said, "than by ending one's days in the Seine." The girl by this time had finished her note and rolled it up. She looked behind her to the other end of the room, where only Bartot's broad back was visible. Then she raised her eyes to mine, turquoise blue as the color of her gown, and very faintly but very deliberately she smiled.
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