s movements and surprise his secret.
She looked around her. A travelling-bag at once caught her attention.
She managed to open it; but her search was useless.
She ransacked the trays of a trunk and the compartments of a
portmanteau. She searched the wardrobe, the writing-table, the chest
of drawers, the bathroom, all the tables, all the furniture. She found
nothing.
She gave a start when she saw a scrap of paper on the balcony, lying as
though flung there by accident:
"Can it be a trick of Daubrecq's?" she thought, out loud. "Can that
scrap of paper contain..."
"No," said a voice behind her, as she put her hand on the latch.
She turned and saw Daubrecq.
She felt neither astonishment nor alarm, nor even any embarrassment at
finding herself face to face with him. She had suffered too deeply for
months to trouble about what Daubrecq could think of her or say, at
catching her in the act of spying.
She sat down wearily.
He grinned:
"No, you're out of it, dear friend. As the children say, you're not
'burning' at all. Oh, not a bit of it! And it's so easy! Shall I help
you? It's next to you, dear friend, on that little table... And yet,
by Jove, there's not much on that little table! Something to read,
something to write with, something to smoke, something to eat... and
that's all... Will you have one of these candied fruits?... Or perhaps
you would rather wait for the more substantial meal which I have
ordered?"
Clarisse made no reply. She did not even seem to listen to what he was
saying, as though she expected other words, more serious words, which he
could not fail to utter.
He cleared the table of all the things that lay upon it and put them on
the mantel-piece. Then he rang the bell.
A head-waiter appeared. Daubrecq asked:
"Is the lunch which I ordered ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"It's for two, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
"And the champagne?"
"Yes, sir."
"Extra-dry?"
"Yes, sir."
Another waiter brought a tray and laid two covers on the table: a cold
lunch, some fruit and a bottle of champagne in an ice-pail.
Then the two waiters withdrew.
"Sit down, dear lady. As you see, I was thinking of you and your cover
is laid."
And, without seeming to observe that Clarisse was not at all prepared to
do honour to his invitation, he sat down, began to eat and continued:
"Yes, upon my word, I hoped that you would end by consenting to this
little private meeting. During the past week,
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