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Updated: June 18, 2025
Madeleine displayed her want of interest in Dove's concerns so plainly, that Miss Martin could not do otherwise than cease discussing them. She rose to end her call. As, however, she stood for the momentary exchange of courtesies that preceded the hand-shake, she said, in an off-hand way: "Miss Wade, I presume I needn't inquire if you're acquainted with the latest about Louise Dufrayer?
But suddenly his attention was arrested, and brought headlong back to what she was saying: in the string of names that fell from her tongue, he believed he had caught one he knew. "Miss Dufrayer?" he queried. "That's it," replied his companion. "Louise Dufrayer.
"Yes when one of the two is Louise." "Kindly leave Miss Dufrayer out of the question." "Oh, Maurice, don't Miss Dufrayer me! I knew Louise before you even knew that she existed. But answer me one question, and I'm done. Are you engaged to Louise?" "Most certainly not." "Well, then, you ought to be.
She swept aside her ample skirts, and invited him to a seat beside her. But he remained standing. "You don't care for dancing?" she queried. And, when he had replied: "Well, say, now, Mr. Guest, we are all dying to know however have you gotten Louise Dufrayer along here this evening? It's the queerest thing out." "Indeed?" said the young man drily. "Well, maybe queer is not just the word.
Indeed, he throve on them. For, in his mild way, Dove had a touch of Caesarean mania of a lust for power. Left to herself, Louise Dufrayer walked slowly home to her room in the BRUDERSTRASSE, but only to throw a hasty look round. It was just as she had expected: although it was long past the appointed time, he was not there.
He cleared his throat, laid the volume down, took it up again; then, realising that the moment had come, he put a bold face on the matter. "I see this belongs to Miss Dufrayer," he said bluntly, and, as his companion's answer was only a careless: "Yes, Louise forgot it the last time she was here," he went on without delay: "I should like to know Miss Dufrayer, Madeleine.
Maurice looked forward to meeting his friends, with some embarrassment. It was unlikely that the events of the summer had remained a secret; for that, there was a clique in the place over-much on the alert for scandal, to which unfortunately the name of Louise Dufrayer lent itself only too readily.
"Don't cry, dear, don't cry," said the young man. "It's all right." But his thoughts were with Louise. He was apprehensive of what she might do next. As if in answer to his fear, she crossed the room. "Ask her to take her hands down. I want to see her face." Maurice bent over Ephie, and touched her shoulder. "Ephie, dear, do you hear? Look up, like a good girl, and speak to Miss Dufrayer."
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