“Grandmama has ordered——”
But quickly Bertrand seized his mother’s hands again. “Don’t tell grandmama yet,” he said hoarsely. “I—I could not—not yet....”
“But you must be hungry, dear,” the mother insisted, “and grandmama will have to know,” she added gently. “And there is Micheline!”
“Yes, I know,” he retorted. “I am a fool—but—— Let us wait a little, shall we?”
Again he kissed his mother’s hands, but he never once looked up into her face. Once when the light from the lamp struck full upon him, Nicolette saw how much older he had grown, and that there was a look in his eyes as if he was looking into the future, and saw something there that was tragic and inevitable!
That look frightened her. But what could she do? Some one ought to be warned and Bertrand should not be allowed to remain alone—not for one moment. Did the mother realise this? Was this the reason why she remained standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder, as if to warn him or to protect?
Five minutes went by, perhaps ten! For Nicolette it was an eternity. Then suddenly grandmama’s voice was heard from way down the gallery, obviously speaking to Jasmin:
“Why was I not told at once?”
After which there was a pause, and then footsteps along the corridor: Micheline’s halting dot and carry one, grandmama’s stately gait.
“I can’t,” Bertrand said and jumped to his feet. “You tell her, mother.”