Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
And, in truth, she was not afraid of them. Mme. Dauvray's voice at once took courage. "There!" she cried triumphantly. "I was sure. I told her so. Celie, I arranged with her that next Tuesday " And Celia interrupted quickly. "No! Oh, no!" Again there was silence; and then Mme. Dauvray said gently, but very seriously: "Celie, you are not kind." Celia was moved by the reproach.
For opposite to her sat her patroness, her good friend, the woman who had saved her. The flush upon Mme. Dauvray's cheeks and the agitation of her manner warned Celia how much hung upon the success of this last seance. How much for both of them! And in the fullness of that knowledge a great fear assailed her.
Meanwhile Mme. Dauvray's motor-car has disappeared, and with it a young Englishwoman who came to Aix with her as her companion. The motive of the crime leaps to the eyes. Mme. Dauvray was famous in Aix for her jewels, which she wore with too little prudence. The condition of the house shows that a careful search was made for them, and they have disappeared.
But there remain the footprints, for which I found no explanation. "You will remember I made you all promise silence as to the finding of Mme. Dauvray's jewellery. For I thought, if they have taken the girl away so that suspicion may fall on her and not on Vauquier, they mean to dispose of her. But they may keep her so long as they have a chance of finding out from her Mme. Dauvray's hiding-place.
A hedge separated the garden of the villa from the road, and above the hedge rose a board with the words "To Let" upon it. At the gate a gendarme was standing, and just within the gate Ricardo saw Louis Besnard, the Commissaire, and Servettaz, Mme. Dauvray's chauffeur. "It is here," said Besnard, as the party descended from the cab, "in the coach-house of this empty villa."
At the bridge there is a Custom House. There at the Pont de la Caille your car is stopped. It is searched. You must sign your name in a book. And there is no way round. You would find sure and certain proof whether or no Madame Dauvray's car travelled last night to Geneva. Not so many travellers pass along that road at night. You would find certain proof too of how many people were in the car.
And even as she spoke Mme. Dauvray's voice rang shrill and irritable up the stairs. "Celie! Celie!" "Quick, Helene," said Celia. For she herself was now anxious to have the seance over and done with. But Helene did not hurry. The more irritable Mme. Dauvray became, the more impatient with Mlle. Celie, the less would Mlle. Celie dare to refuse the tests Adele wished to impose upon her.
"Be quick, and when you come back hide the bag carefully under your coat." Perrichet went down the stairs with pride written upon his face. Was he not assisting the great M. Hanaud from the Surete in Paris? Hanaud returned into Mme. Dauvray's room and closed the door. He looked into the eyes of his companions. "Can't you see the scene?" he asked with a queer smile of excitement.
The two people were walking down the little street of which the Casino blocks the end. And it happened that an attendant at the Casino, named Alphonse Ruel, passed them, recognised them both, and smiled to himself with some amusement. What was Wethermill doing in company with Mme. Dauvray's maid? Ruel had no doubt. Ruel had seen Wethermill often enough these recent days with Mme.
Celie was of an address. And again, speaking of Mme. Dauvray's queer craze that the spirit of Mme. de Montespan should be called up, Helene Vauquier says: 'She was never gratified. Always she hoped. Always Mlle. Celie tantalised her with the hope.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking