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The French Consul came to her rescue, claiming her as a subject of France, and thus protecting her from arrest. But the order that she should quit Warsaw was peremptory, and Warsaw saw her no more. Back again in Paris, Lola found that even her new halo of romance was powerless to win favour for her dancing.
"Yes," agreed his lieutenant, producing a well-worn brier and pressing the tobacco down with a horny thumb. "And yet people think we've got an easy job. Lola knows her business, and I'm open to bet she'll not be found before she wants to be found." Foyle chuckled at this enunciation of rank heresy.
"Shall I see you again before you go?" "Before you go?" cried Dale. "Where are you off to?" "Somewhere south, out of the fogs." "When?" "At once," said I. He turned to our hostess. "We can't let him go like that. I wonder if you could fix up a little dinner here, Lola, for the three of us. It would be ripping, so cosy, you know." He glowed with the preposterous inspiration.
In her pose grace seemed involuntarily to preside over her limbs and dispose their attitude. Her foot and ankle were almost faultless." A few days later the world of rank and fashion flocked to see the début of the danseuse whose fame had been trumpeted abroad; and as Lola pirouetted on to the stage the focus of a thousand pairs of eyes she felt that the crowning moment of her life had come.
Half a dozen little nomad bands, forever out from the reservation, had eagerly welcomed these malcontents and the news they bore that two of their young braves had been murdered while striving to defend Natzie and Lola.
It was not until the next day that I recovered my sanity. This time Lola was in the room with the nurse, and after a while the latter left us together. Even Lola could not understand my paralysing dismay. "But think of it, my dear friend," she argued, "just think of it. You are saved saved by a miracle. The doctor says you will be stronger than you have ever been before."
His eyes were narrowed as he looked into her face. "For God's sake!" he said, "what makes you think that?" "Knowledge," said Lola, "long knowledge of women and men." "If I thought that," said Courtrey slowly, his eyes losing sight of her as he seemed to look beyond her. "If I thought that why, hell! If that's th' truth why, it it's th' lever!"
It was odd how Lola came always with that song accompaniment. Try as he might, even now, in this disordered moment, Jude heard the rippling little lark song rise and fall in the fragrant darkness. Jude, while but a boy, liked to draw water for Lola and run her errands when young Pierre, the husband, was in camp.
If I could have labelled her as the Scarlet Woman, the Martyred Saint, the Jolly Bohemian, or the Bold Adventuress, my task would have been easy. But I had an uncomfortable feeling that Lola Brandt was not to be classified in so simple a fashion. I took refuge in a negative. "She would hardly be a success," said I, "in serious political circles." With that I made my escape.
Lola could have no interest in deceiving her. She must not answer his letter or be his dupe again. Bluebell's approaching departure to England still further corroborated Lola's story. At that picnic on Long Island, Bertie had evidently acknowledged his engagement to herself, which she now fully believed to be a mercenary one, as, doubtless, he had also assured her rival.
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