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Updated: June 6, 2025
You seemed to have no scruples whatever, last night and this morning." "I've been thinking hard since then. I want my warning to you either to be justified, or else I want to apologise humbly. For if Ivor doesn't come to this house to-night, in spite of his embarrassment when he spoke about an engagement, I shall believe that he doesn't care a rap about Maxine de Renzie."
So it seemed that it was always of her he thought of Maxine de Renzie! And I, of all people in the world, was to help him, with her. As I thought of this task he'd set me, and of all it meant, it appeared more and more incredible that he should have had the heart to ask such a thing of me. But it "meant more than his life." And I would do the thing, if it could be done, because of my pride.
"No," replied Ivor. "I saw Miss de Renzie often when she was acting in London a year ago; but after she went to Paris of course, she's very busy and has crowds of friends; and I've only crossed once or twice since, on hurried visits; so we haven't met, or written to each other." "It hasn't been announced yet, but I thought as an old friend you might have been told.
I knew in the end only that, according to all the critics, Maxine de Renzie had "surpassed herself," had been "astonishingly great," had done "what no woman could do unless she threw her whole soul into her part." How little they knew where Maxine de Renzie's soul had been last night! And only God knew where it might be this night.
Godensky would guess that, too: and he would have perhaps informed the police, very cautiously, very unofficially and confidentially, that he suspected Maxine de Renzie of being a political spy in the pay of England. He would have advised that my movements be watched for the next few days: that English agents of the French police be warned to watch also, on their side of the Channel.
"You ought to be grateful to me for thinking of it," said Lisa. "It's entirely for your sake; and it's quite true, it was an inspiration to come here. This afternoon in the train I read an interview in 'Femina' with Maxine de Renzie, about the new play she's produced to-night. There was a picture of her, and a description of her house in the Rue d'Hollande."
That happens with women sometimes. I want to warn you of a great danger that threatens you, Maxine. Perhaps, late as it is, I could save you from it if you'd let me." "Save me from what?" I asked temporising. "You're very mysterious, Count Godensky. And I'm Mademoiselle de Renzie except to my very intimate friends." "I am your friend, always.
"Worse, then! Because I didn't ask you to promise. I had too much faith in you for that. I believed you when you said you didn't care for anyone but me. I've told Lisa. It doesn't matter our speaking like this before her. I asked you to wait for my promise for a little while, until I could be quite sure you didn't think of Miss de Renzie as some people fancied you did.
First, there was Raoul to be put off and got out of the way Raoul, my best beloved, whose help and protection I needed so much, yet must forego, and hurt him instead. The stage-door keeper had orders to let him "come behind," and so he was already waiting at the door of my little boudoir by the time Hélène had died, the curtain had gone down, and Maxine de Renzie had been able to leave the stage.
"I have brought no gift for Mademoiselle de Renzie," I prevaricated boldly; but the man's knowledge of my name was ominous. If the Paris police had contrived to learn it already, as well as to find out that I was the bearer of something for Maxine, it looked as if they knew enough to play the game in their own way whatever that might be.
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