In a trice three phials had been taken down from their shelves, and three stout silk-lined cases, of the pattern of safety-match boxes, had been produced. The phial went into its tray, the tray into its sheath, the case complete into a sheet of rough grey paper, and the whole was girt with cord in next to no time.
As the last knot was being tied Adèle touched me upon the arm.
"I almost forgot," she said. Then she turned to the girl. "I have been told to ask for your 'Red Violets.'"
The scissors the girl was using fell to the floor. As she recovered them—
"Certainly, Madame," she whispered, laying a trembling hand upon the curtain behind.
She disappeared, to reappear almost immediately with a package precisely similar to those she had just made up. She placed it with the others.
"Oh," said Adèle, "but you haven't——"
A perfect hurricane of croaks, mingled with cries of anger, interrupted her.
"Never mind," I cried, gathering up the parcels. "How much is it now?
Four hundred, I suppose."
As I was counting the notes, a yell of anguish in Berry's unmistakable accents fell upon my ears.