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Updated: June 4, 2025
That at the last, after everything!" "Yes, just that," remarked Clancey. "So you introduced him to Madame de Corantin?" "Not because I wanted to," replied Bobby. "And she has been with him ever since?" "Oh, I don't know that." "But she was with him last night at the Savoy?" "Yes. Damn him! I must be off now. Clancey, really, I'm awfully obliged to you." "Well, may I come to Claridge's tomorrow?
In this way twenty minutes passed; Bobby was dressed and flew downstairs. Unable to disguise his anxiety, he asked the porter if he had seen Madame de Corantin. "Madame de Corantin left an hour ago, Monsieur." "Left? What do you mean?" "Yes, Monsieur, she left left with her luggage and her maid everything." Controlling himself as best he could Bobby turned away in a state of complete dejection.
Towards morning, perhaps at six or seven, he fell into a heavy sleep, completely worn out by his mental sufferings. He awoke late, and, glancing at his watch, saw to his horror that it was already eleven o'clock. Cursing himself as he realized that this was the hour at which Madame de Corantin generally went out, he rang the bell. How he longed for his trusted valet, enlisted two months back.
The Assistant Commissioner's answer was to throw a note across the table to his questioner. It ran as follows I desire you to take the most rigorous measures without fear or favour regarding this matter of the passports accorded to Madame de Corantin. There has been a disgraceful dereliction of duty, and I intend to make an example of the offender, whoever he may be. Yours very truly,
For a moment Bobby hesitated. If there were one man in all his acquaintance whom he would have preferred that Madame de Corantin should not know, it was Alistair Ramsey. Bobby had known him for a good many years. The acquaintance dated back to a period when Ramsey was a comparatively young man of fashionable manner and appearance on half-commission with a firm of stockbrokers.
More profoundly than ever he realized all that Madame de Corantin had meant to him. Her disappearance had made his life a blank. Had there been some glimmer of hope, however slight, of penetrating the mystery, had there been the faintest clue to her present whereabouts, he would have thrown himself heart and soul into the endeavour to trace her, but he had absolutely nothing to go upon.
But on this occasion Madame de Corantin seemed to be oblivious of menu and of Bobby alike. She sat apparently lost in thought, and, eating mechanically what was placed before her, replied with monosyllables to Bobby's attempts at conversation. Then, of a sudden, her face cleared like the sky on an April day. "Pardon me, my friend, I fear I have been very ill-mannered.
"There is something I wanted to tell you, Froelich." Bobby waited impatiently. "That lady you were talking about, Madame de Corantin. I think I remember something." Bobby was nervously anxious to get away. What Clancey had to tell him mattered little now. "Oh, thanks very much, Clancey. The fact is, I've seen her." Clancey's nonchalant manner changed instantaneously. "Really!" he exclaimed.
About this time Bobby, waiting one evening in the hall of the hotel for Madame de Corantin to come down to dinner, observed a familiar figure in Staff uniform. It was Alistair Ramsey. They exchanged salutations, but Ramsey's manner was marked by a hauteur which even Bobby, good-natured as he was, could not fail to notice.
She had certainly shown quite plainly that she wanted to see him, and yet she had shown equally plainly that she didn't want him to remain with her alone. He wondered how long Ramsey would be staying in Paris, and what effect his presence would have on his intercourse with Madame de Corantin. Would he be able to see as much of her or would she drop him in favour of Ramsey.
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