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Updated: June 28, 2025
"She is very dear and good." They were now going slowly down towards the town. It was five o'clock, and the concièrge's children were scampering about, uncombed, as they passed the cottage. "We'll go to the Musée and knock up old Malaumain," declared Théo suddenly. "He won't mind, and she will give us a good déjeuner. I could eat a horse." "And I a carriage! But why go to a museum for breakfast?"
The old lady to whom it belongs is a particular friend of mine, and will certainly do her best to make you comfortable. I presume that it was your bag I saw in the concierge's office, when I was there just now?" "We left it there," she answered, and then gave me my reward by adding "It is very kind of you, Mr. Fairfax to have taken so much trouble. I cannot thank you sufficiently."
Or was it some subtler echo of Lady St. Craye's personality that clung there? Abruptly, as he passed Betty's door, the suspicion stung him. Had the Jasmine lady had any hand in this sudden departure? "Pooh nonsense!" he said. But all the same he paused at the concierge's window. "I am desolated to have deranged Madame," gold coin changed hands.
She turned her back to the dancers; but she had before her a mirror, in which she saw every gesture of Mrs. Hilaire and her guests. And then she became quite sure of what she had suspected from the beginning. She understood into what company she had been inveigled by the concierge's wife. She had, however, sufficient self-control to finish the quadrille.
I lay and listened and suddenly I felt my cheek wet with tears then some shame, some anger shook me, and I started to my feet, and hobbled to the door which was ajar I opened it wide there was Miss Sharp with the concierge's daughter's baby on her lap fondling it the creature may be six months old. Her horn spectacles lay on the table.
To draw off the silk handkerchief that served him as a muffler, to fold it and slip it into his pocket, to spring to the ground and enter the house indicated, was only the work of an instant for the young detective. In the concierge's little room he found an old woman knitting.
But if they had been noted, and should the notebook containing them be discovered later, the danger was not immediate. While writing his report and listening to the concierge's deposition, by a sort of inspiration he thought of a way of disposing of them.
But one day towards the middle of October, coming home from the restaurant where I had lunched, I found in my letter box, in the concierge's room, two half sheets of paper, folded, with the corners turned down, and my name superscribed in pencil. The handwriting startled me a little and yet, no, it was impossible.
At length she arrived, she passed stiffly before the concierge's room where she perfectly recognized the Lorilleuxs and the Poissons seated at the table having dinner, and who made grimaces of disgust on beholding her in that sorry state. She never remembered how she had got up all those flights of stairs.
After his imprisonment and slow torture he experienced an extraordinary joy in living and in his freedom. When he reached the house he found the concièrge's office empty. He called out several times. "I'm the concièrge, what is it you want?" a voice answered behind him. Fandor turned sharply: "Ah, there you are, Madame, I didn't see you."
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