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Updated: May 20, 2025
"No, sir. But she dismissed her cook with a month's wages, so it seems as though she was gone for a good spell." "What time yesterday did she leave?" "After lunch. The cabman was to drive her to Victoria London, Chatham and Dover Railway." "That looks like the 2.20 to Paris," said I. But the lift-porter knew nothing of this. He had given me all the information in his power.
"By Heaven," I cried, almost articulately, "with the splendour of the world at my command why should I not write plays, novels, poems, rhapsodies, so as to tell the blind, groping, loveless people what it is like? "Take me up to Madame Brandt!" said I to the lift-porter. "Madame Brandt is not in town, sir," said the man. I looked at him open-mouthed. "Not in town?"
But how did I know that she had gone to Paris? And if she was there how could I discover her address? Suddenly an idea struck me. She would not have left Quast and the cattery in the same unceremonious fashion to get on as best they might. She would have given Quast money and directions. At any rate, he would know more than the lift-porter of the mansions. I decided to go to him forthwith.
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