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Page 46
She suddenly stopped speaking and flushed with embarrassment.
"If you mean that Madame de St�mer is in love with her cousin, I agree
with you," I said, quietly.
"Oh, is it so evident as that?" murmured Val Beverley. She laughed to
cover her confusion. "I wish I could understand what it all means."
At this point our t�te-�-t�te was interrupted by the return of Madame
de St�mer.
"Oh, la la!" she cried, "the Colonel must have allowed himself to
become too animated this evening. He is threatened with one of his
attacks and I have insisted upon his immediate retirement. He makes his
apologies, but knows you will understand."
I expressed my concern, and:
"I was unaware that Colonel Menendez's health was impaired," I said.
"Ah," Madame shrugged characteristically. "Juan has travelled too much
of the road of life on top speed, Mr. Knox." She snapped her white
fingers and grimaced significantly. "Excitement is bad for him."
She wheeled her chair up beside Val Beverley, and taking the girl's
hand patted it affectionately.
"You look pale to-night, my dear," she said. "All this bogey business
is getting on your nerves, eh?"
"Oh, not at all," declared the girl. "It is very mysterious and
annoying, of course."
"But M. Paul Harley will presently tell us what it is all about,"
concluded Madame. "Yes, I trust so. We want no Cuban devils here at
Cray's Folly."
I had hoped that she would speak further of the matter, but having thus
apologized for our host's absence, she plunged into an amusing account
of Parisian society, and of the changes which five years of war had
brought about. Her comments, although brilliant, were superficial, the
only point I recollect being her reference to a certain Baron Bergmann,
a Swedish diplomat, who, according to Madame, had the longest nose and
the shortest memory in Paris, so that in the cold weather, "he even
sometimes forgot to blow his nose."
Her brightness I thought was almost feverish. She chattered and laughed
and gesticulated, but on this occasion she was overacting. Underneath
all her vivacity lay something cold and grim.
Harley rejoined us in half an hour or so, but I could see that he was
as conscious of the air of tension as I was. All Madame's high spirits
could not enable her to conceal the fact that she was anxious to
retire. But Harley's evident desire to do likewise surprised me very
greatly; for from the point of view of the investigation the day had
been an unsatisfactory one. I knew that there must be a hundred and one
things which my friend desired to know, questions which Madame de
St�mer could have answered. Nevertheless, at about ten o'clock we
separated for the night, and although I was intensely anxious to talk
to Harley, his reticent mood had descended upon him again, and:
"Sleep well, Knox," he said, as he paused at my door. "I may be
awakening you early."
With which cryptic remark and not another word he passed on and entered
his own room.
CHAPTER XI
THE SHADOW ON THE BLIND
Perhaps it was childish on my part, but I accepted this curt dismissal
very ill-humouredly. That Harley, for some reason of his own, wished to
be alone, was evident enough, but I resented being excluded from his
confidence, even temporarily. It would seem that he had formed a theory
in the prosecution of which my co�peration was not needed. And what
with profitless conjectures concerning its nature, and memories of Val
Beverley's pathetic parting glance as we had bade one another good-
night, sleep seemed to be out of the question, and I stood for a long
time staring out of the open window.
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