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Updated: June 24, 2025
And so it came to pass that outwardly the Polish lady's disappearance came to be regarded even by Sylvia as having only been a ripple on the pleasant, lazy, agreeable life she, Count Paul, and last, not least, the Wachners, were all leading at Lacville. In fact, as the days went on, only Mrs.
The chocolate-coloured row of shutters were now closed to shut out the heat, for the sun beat down pitilessly on the little house, and the whole place had a curiously deserted, unlived-in appearance. Sylvia secretly wondered how the Wachners could bear to leave the garden, which might have been made so pretty with a little care, in such a state of neglect and untidiness.
They were really very kind people, these Wachners! Looking round the funny little dining-room, Sylvia could not help remembering how uncomfortable she had felt when sitting there alone the day before. It was hard now to believe that she should have had that queer, eerie feeling of discomfort and disquietude in such a commonplace, cheerful room.
Chester was shaking hands cordially with the Wachners. "Thank you for all your kindness," he said heartily. "I hope we shall meet again soon! I shall certainly be here for some days. Perhaps you will allow me to call on you?"
We are going to fetch our friend our friend, Mrs. Bailey; she is so charming, so delightful! We are going to fetch her because she has been spending the evening with her friends, the Wachners. That old she-devil you remember her, surely? The woman who asked you concerning your plans? It is she I fear " "Je crois que c'est ici, Monsieur?" the man turned round on his seat.
She felt vaguely uncomfortable, for even as Madame Wachner had spoken she had become aware that the bed-room was almost entirely cleared of everything belonging to its occupants. However, the Wachners, like Anna Wolsky, had the right to go away without telling anyone of their intention. As they came back into the dining-room together, Mrs.
Both rooms gave Sylvia a strange impression that they were very little lived in. But then, of course, the Wachners were very little at home. "And now I will get tea," said Madame Wachner triumphantly. "Will you not let me help you?" asked Sylvia, timidly. "I love making tea every Englishwoman loves making tea." She had no wish to be left in this dull, ugly little drawing-room by herself.
She opened the gate, and with boisterous heartiness welcomed Chester and Sylvia into the neglected garden. Chester looked round him with an involuntary surprise. The Wachners' home was entirely unlike what he had expected to find it. He had thought to see one of those trim, neat little villas surrounded by gay, exquisitely tended little gardens which are the pride of the Parisian suburban dweller.
"There's that funny old couple I mean the man called Fritz Something-or-other and his wife. Surely they're all right?" observed Chester. Paul de Virieu shook his head decidedly. "The Wachners are not nice people," he said slowly. "They appear to be very fond of Mrs. Bailey, I know, but they are only fond of themselves. They are adventurers; 'out for the stuff, as Americans say.
"It is always folly to interfere in anyone else's affairs," he muttered. "But I have this excuse I happen to know that last week, or rather ten days ago, the Wachners were in considerable difficulty about money. Then suddenly they seemed to have found plenty, in fact, to be as we say here,
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