As the old lady took his place he quickly ran out and along the hall to his room. Reaching the open door he heard a curious sound which came from the lighted bathroom beyond. What was it? It seemed like strained and heavy breathing; then he caught muttered, angry words in French, an expletive that reeked of the gutter. What on earth did it mean? He strove to the door, then halted on the threshold, completely petrified. Speech deserted him, he could only stare, hardly able to credit what he saw.
Facing him, her back against the wall, was Thérèse, struggling with every ounce of strength she possessed to escape from a man who gripped her firmly by the wrists. Transformed into a tigress, her cheeks burning with passion, she writhed and pushed and panted in her efforts to free herself. Her captor's breath came hard; he was barely more than a match for her, yet he never relaxed his hold.
"Thérèse! What is the meaning of this?"
The man, whom he now saw to be old and grey-haired, turned and looked over his spare shoulder. It was Chalmers.
CHAPTER XXXIII
At sight of Roger the Frenchwoman uttered a cry and redoubled her efforts to get away.
"Roger, make him let go, the old swine, the beast, le sale chameau! I dismiss him here, now; he must leave my house. I will have him arrested for attacking me. I… Take him away, Roger, do you hear, do you see what he is doing?"
Before Roger could reply or adjust his confused impressions the old butler panted out:
"Just pick up that bottle from the floor, sir, if you don't mind, and put it in a safe place. Then I'll let her ladyship go."
Speechless from amazement, yet forcibly impressed by the old man's words and serious manner, Roger looked and discovered a bottle of Evian water standing on the tiled floor a few feet away. He picked it up and set it high on a shelf over the basin, then quickly closed the door and stood with his back against it.