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Updated: June 25, 2025
Besnard looked at the name stamped in gold letters upon the lining of the shoes. "I will have inquiries made," he said. Hanaud nodded, took a measure from his pocket and measured the ground between the window and the first footstep, and between the first footstep and the other two. "How tall is Mlle. Celie?" he asked, and he addressed the question to Wethermill.
She was well known in Aix and her cheques were everywhere accepted without question. It was a high pleasure to serve madame, her credit was so good," said Helene Vauquier, raising her head as though she herself had a share in the pride of that good credit. "No doubt," Hanaud agreed. "There are many fine households where the banking account is overdrawn, and it cannot be pleasant for the servants."
"Let it come!" said Mr. Ricardo superbly. Even as he sat he could hear the grating of wheels upon the drive. He saw Hanaud lean farther from the window and stamp impatiently upon the floor. "There it is at the door," he said; and for a few seconds he spoke no more. He stood looking downwards, craning his head, with his back towards Ricardo.
"Well, you will come and report to me when you have made your investigation." And he passed on without another question or remark. The group of men watched him go, and it was not until he was out of earshot that Besnard turned with a deprecating gesture to Hanaud. "Yes, yes, he is a good judge, M. Hanaud quick, discriminating, sympathetic; but he has that bee in his bonnet, like so many others.
Hanaud held up his hand to check the flow of words, and both read on again: "At three o'clock on Tuesday afternoon madame was driven away in the carriage, and I did not see it return all that evening. Of course, it may have returned to the stables by another road. But it was not unusual for the carriage to take her into Geneva and wait a long time.
"My poor girl, all that is over," said Hanaud. And he stood up. But at the first movement he made she cried incisively, "No," and tightened the clutch of her fingers upon his sleeve. "But, mademoiselle, you are safe," he said, with a smile. She stared at him stupidly. It seemed the words had no meaning for her. She would not let him go.
But Hanaud was supporting Celia; and so, as Lemerre turned abruptly towards him with the flask in his hand, he turned abruptly towards Celia too. She wrenched herself from Hanaud's arms, she shrank violently away. Her white face flushed scarlet and grew white again. She screamed loudly, terribly; and after the scream she uttered a strange, weak sigh, and so fell sideways in a swoon.
Helene Vauquier reflected. "I think Adele was the name," she said in a more doubtful tone. "It sounded like Adele." The irrepressible Mr. Ricardo was impelled to intervene. "What Monsieur Hanaud means," he explained, with the pleasant air of a man happy to illuminate the dark intelligence of a child, "is that Adele was probably a pseudonym." Hanaud turned to him with a savage grin.
I did not know the number of Mme. Dauvray's car. I did not even know that it had disappeared"; and suddenly tears of mortification filled his eyes. "But why do I make these excuses?" he cried. "It is better, M. Hanaud, that I go back to my uniform and stand at the street corner. I am as foolish as I look." "Nonsense, my friend," said Hanaud, clapping the disconsolate man upon the shoulder.
He began to start at the sound of footsteps in the corridor, to glance every other moment from the window, to eat his cigarettes rather than to smoke them. At eleven o'clock Ricardo's valet brought a telegram into the room. Ricardo seized it. "Calmly, my friend," said Hanaud. With trembling fingers Ricardo tore it open. He jumped in his chair. Speechless, he handed the telegram to Hanaud.
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