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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Anyhow," Ralph said, "it doesn't follow that the girl's in it." "I am jolly certain she isn't!" I said. "What bothers me, of course, is that I hate to think of her being mixed up with anything shady. The Deloras may be great people in their own country, but I'll swear that our friend here is a wrong 'un."
"Austen," he said, "I am not at all sure that I have not brought you up on rather a fool's errand, but you seemed rather mystified yourself about these Deloras. Here's the cable from Dicky. What do you make of it? Must have cost him something, extravagant young beggar!" He passed it across to me. I read it out aloud. I read the cable through three times. "May I take this, Ralph?" I said.
"Let us leave these topics. I am not interested in the Deloras, or Louis, or Monsieur Bartot. Last night is finished, and to-morrow I leave. Let us talk for a few moments of ourselves." She held up her finger suddenly. "Listen!" she exclaimed, in a voice of terror. Footsteps had halted outside the door. She ran to the window and looked down.
"Excellently, Louis," I answered, "so far as the mere question of food goes. You have not, however, managed to satisfy my curiosity." "Monsieur?" he asked interrogatively. "Concerning the Deloras," I answered. Louis shrugged his shoulders. "But what should I know?" he asked. "Mr. Delora, he has come here last year and the year before. He has stayed for a month or so. He understands what he eats.
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