"It is not on her account that I am troubled," he cried, and Ann looked at him with startled eyes.
Betty crossed the court and joined them in the hall before Ann could ask a question; and throughout their luncheon he made conversation upon indifferent subjects with rapidity, if without entertainment.
Fortunately there was no time to spare. They were still indeed smoking their cigarettes over their coffee when Gaston informed them that the Commissary of Police with his secretary was waiting in the library.
"This is Mr. Frobisher, my solicitor in London," said Betty as she presented Jim.
The Commissary, Monsieur Girardot, was a stout, bald, middle-aged man with a pair of folding glasses sitting upon a prominent fat nose; his secretary, Maurice Thevenet, was a tall good-looking novice in the police administration, a trifle flashy in his appearance, and in his own esteem, one would gather, rather a conqueror amongst the fair.
"I have asked Monsieur Bex, Mademoiselle's notary in Dijon, to be present," said Jim.
"That is quite in order," replied the Commissary, and Monsieur Bex was at that moment announced. He came on the very moment of three. The clock was striking as he bowed in the doorway. Everything was just as it should be. Monsieur Bex was pleased.
"With Monsieur le Commissaire's consent," he said, smiling, "we can now proceed with the final ceremonies of this affair."
"We wait for Monsieur Hanaud," said the Commissary.
"Hanaud?"