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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Nothing," I answered, "except that Monsieur Bartot held a somewhat unique position in a certain corner of Paris, and that he was a person whom it was not well to offend." "No more?" she asked. "No more," I answered. "I saw him point us out to you," she remarked. "I asked him to show me the most beautiful woman in the room," I answered. She shook her head.
Bartot commenced to talk, but his voice was almost inaudible, it was so thick with passion. "I come to know what it means! It is not for pleasure that I come to this villainous country! I come to know what the game is! I will be told! Mademoiselle here she tells me that her uncle has been lost, and now that he is ill. She will not let me see him!" Louis shrugged his shoulders. "Alas!" he said.
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.
I had hitherto avoided mentioning it, but I tried now to make light of the matter. "I spoke to Louis coming out," I remarked. "The man Bartot has only had a slight stroke. With a neck like that, I wonder he has not had it before." She found no consolation in my words. She only shook her head sadly. "You do not understand," she said. "It is part of the game.
I stood on one side then while he went up to the pair. I heard Felicia give a little murmur of relief. Bartot turned round fiercely. The two faced one another, and it seemed to me that unutterable things passed between them.
I broke off in the middle of my sentence, attracted by a sudden little exclamation from my companion. There was the sound of a heavy fall close at hand. I sprang to my feet. "By Jove, it's Bartot!" I exclaimed. The man was leaning half across the table, his arms stretched out in an unnatural fashion, the wine which he had overturned streaming on to the floor. His face was flushed and blotchy.
"I came because I would have them understand who it was that had ruined their plans, because they made use of me of Bartot and me and threw us aside like gloves that were finished with. But it was a foolish thing to do, monsieur. I see that, and I thank you now for your warning." She gathered her things together for her departure, and leaned across towards her companion.
"That, I know, is quite impossible. Monsieur Delora was taken ill on the voyage over. This gentleman," he added, turning to me, "will bear me out when I say this. He is now in bed, and a doctor is with him. I am sorry, but it would not be possible to have him disturbed." "Then I wait!" Bartot declared, folding his arms. "I wait till monsieur recovers!" "Why not?" Louis asked.
In the street below was standing an automobile with yellow wheels. I was looking over her shoulder, and she clutched my arm. "It is he Bartot!" she cried. "He is here at the private entrance. Some one has told him that I am here. Mon Dieu! It is he outside now!" It was bad acting, and I laughed.
Bartot for a moment shrank back in his chair as though he had been struck, only to recover himself the next second; and the lady with the turquoises bent over and whispered in his ear. One person only left his place, a young man who had been sitting at a table at the other end of the room with one of the gayest parties. At the very first note of alarm he had sprung to his feet.
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