The Lost Ambassador; Or, The Search For The Missing Delora

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

"And Monsieur Delora himself?" I asked. "He comes here when he chooses? He is not merely a sightseer?"

"No," Louis repeated, "he is not merely a sightseer!"

"A privileged person," I remarked.

"He is a wonderful man," Louis answered calmly. "He has travelled all over the world. He knows a little of every capital, of every side of life,—perhaps," he added, "of the underneath side."

"His niece is very beautiful," I remarked, looking at her thoughtfully. "It seems almost a shame, does it not, to bring her into such a place as this?"

Louis smiled.

"If she were going to stay in Paris—yes!" he said. "If she is really going to Brazil, it matters little what she does. A Parisian, of course, would never bring his womankind here."

"She is very beautiful," I remarked. "Yes, I agree with you, Louis. It is no place for girls of her age."

Louis smiled.

"Monsieur may make her acquaintance some day," he remarked. "Monsieur Delora is on his way to England."