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At half-past ten this morning we parted, the best of friends, and I dropped a good-bye kiss into the deep black gorge between the promontories of Beau's velvet forehead and plush nose. We'd had breakfast together, Miss Paget and I, to say nothing of the dog, and I felt rather cheerful. Of course I dreaded the Princess; but I always did like adventures, and it appeared to me distinctly an adventure to be a companion, even in misery. Besides, it was nice to have come away from Monsieur Charretier, and to feel that not only did he not know where I was, but that he wasn't likely to find out. Poor me! I little guessed what an adventure on a grand scale I was in for. Already this morning seems a long time ago; a year at the Convent used to seem shorter. I drove up to the hotel in the omnibus which was at the station, and asked at the office for the Princess Boriskoff. I said that I was Mademoiselle d'Angely, and would they please send word to the Princess, because she was expecting me. It was a young assistant manager who received me, and he gave me a very queer, startled sort of look when I said this, as if I were a suspicious person, and he didn't quite know whether it would be better to answer me or call for help. "I haven't made a mistake, have I?" I asked, beginning to be anxious. "This _is_ the hotel where the Princess is staying, isn't it?" "She was staying here," the youth admitted. "But--" "Has she _gone_?" "Not exactly." "She must be either here or gone." Again he regarded me with suspicion, as if he did not agree with my statement. "Are you a relative of the Princess?" he inquired. "No, I'm engaged to be her companion." "Oh! If that is all! But perhaps, in any case, it will be better to wait for the manager. He will be here presently. I do not like to take the responsibility." "The responsibility of what?" I persisted, my heart beginning to feel like a patter of rain on a tin roof. "Of telling you what has happened." "If something has happened, I can't wait to hear it. I must know at once," I said, with visions of all sorts of horrid things: that the Princess had decided not to have a companion, and was going to disown me; that my cousin Madame Milvaine had somehow found out everything; that Monsieur Charretier had got on my track, and was here in advance waiting to pounce upon me. "It is a thing which we do not want to have talked about in the hotel," the young man hesitated.
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