The servant bowed, though a lightninglike glance at Finette behind the signora’s back indicated surprise, for if madam dined at seven, she evidently did not mean to go to the opera, at all events as a performer.
Madam put out one tiny foot to reach her brougham, but drew back with a deep breath that narrowly escaped being a cry of alarm.
Standing just within the portico was a tall, gentlemanly-looking man, a stranger to her, hat in hand, waiting to address her.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE INLAID CABINET.
The sight of any and every stranger who spoke to or even looked at Lucia must henceforth inevitably cause her a thrill of fear.
She had never seen this handsome young man with the dark, grave, penetrating eyes before, to her knowledge; yet he looked at her as if he would read her very soul.
Frank, the instant the door opened, had bounded from his cab, and was waiting for the signora to issue forth. He bowed profoundly.
“Madam Guiscardini, I believe?” he said.
He had recognized her at the first glance, having frequently seen her at the opera, both in London and in Paris, and being furthermore made familiar with her strikingly marked features and imperial figure by the innumerable photographs issued by London and Parisian firms.