But he hardly looked at her, and at once went to the window, where he lifted a corner of the curtain, and for ten minutes remained there peering through the opening.
Then, without turning round, he remarked:
“I told you that we ought to have two exits, and you wouldn’t believe me. It’s a good thing we are in front anyhow, but I can’t see properly because of the tree.”
“The acacia?” sighed the Baronne as she slowly untied her veil.
The house stood back from the road, facing a little courtyard, containing an acacia and a dozen spindle-trees, shut in by an ivy-covered railing.
“Yes, the acacia, if you like.”
“What are you looking at, mon ami?”
“At a man stuck against the wall opposite.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know. I’m looking to see if he is one of my detectives. I’m fed up. Since I’ve been in Paris I’ve had two of them at my heels all day. It gets on one’s nerves in the end. But this time I quite thought I’d managed to give them the slip.”