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Sylvia, as is often the case with those who have been much thrown with French people, could understand French much better than she could speak it, and what Madame Wachner had just hissed out in rapid, mumbling tones, surprised and puzzled her.
Together they went out, Madame Wachner carefully locking the door and hiding the key where she had found it, under the mat outside. Sylvia could not help laughing. "I really wonder you do that," she observed. "Just think how easy it would be for anyone to get into the house!" "Yes, that is true, but there is nothing to steal.
In that case they would not be back till seven o'clock. The best thing she could do would be to leave a note inviting Madame Wachner and L'Ami Fritz to dinner at the Villa du Lac. Count Paul was to be in Paris this evening, so his eyes would not be offended by the sight of the people of whom he so disapproved.
She was very stout, though still so vigorous, and her shrewd, determined face now turned smilingly to the pretty, anxious-eyed Englishwoman. But she waited a few moments before answering Sylvia's eager questions. Then, "I cannot tell you," she said slowly and in French, "what has happened to Madame Wolsky " "What has happened to her!" cried Sylvia. "What do you mean, Madame Wachner?"
And then, quite suddenly, Madame Wachner uttered a hoarse exclamation of terror. One of the gendarmes had climbed up on to the window-sill, and was now half into the room. She waddled quickly across to the door, only to find another gendarme in the hall. Sylvia's eyes glistened, and a sensation which had hitherto been quite unknown to her took possession of her, soul and body.
"I 'ave asked them to telephone for an open carriage," Madame Wachner added, in a better-humoured tone. "It will be here in three or four minutes. Shall we drive you first to the Casino?" This question she asked of her husband. "No," said Monsieur Wachner, harshly, "certainly not! I will walk in any case." "And I will walk too," said Anna, who had just come up.
She and Monsieur Wachner "L'Ami Fritz," as even Sylvia had fallen into the way of calling him seemed scarcely alive unless they were standing or sitting round a baccarat table, putting down or taking up the shining gold pieces which they treated as carelessly as if they were counters.
Sylvia was glad that the darkness hid her deep, burning blushes from Anna Wolsky. "You do not realise," said the Polish lady, gravely, "what your life would be if you were married to a man whose only interest in life is play. Mind you, I do not say that a gambler does not make a kind husband. We have an example" she smiled a little "in this Monsieur Wachner.
She had indeed seen very little of Anna Wolsky during the last few days, but that was not because she had been with Madame Wachner. "I will come and see you for a little while to-night," she said impetuously, "for I am going to spend to-morrow in Paris with a friend who is there just now " She hurried out the half-truth with a curious feeling of guilt. "Yes, do come!" cried Anna eagerly.
"No, no, we have arranged to send the letter by a cabman who will call for it." Monsieur Wachner pushed opened the white gate, and all three began walking up through the garden. The mantle of night now draped every straggling bush, every wilted flower, and the little wilderness was filled with delicious, pungent night scents.
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