Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, she held out her hand,—a small white hand with rather long fingers, manicured to a perfection unusual in this country. She wore only one ring, in which was set a magnificent uncut emerald. I held her fingers for a moment, and raised them to my lips.
"I shall be always at your service," I answered quietly, "however much—or however little you may care to tell me. Goodnight!"
I went to my rooms and washed. Afterwards I descended and ordered some supper in the café.
"Louis is not back yet?" I remarked to the waiter who attended to me.
"Not yet, monsieur," the man answered. "We expect him some time to-morrow. Monsieur is also from Paris?"
I nodded, and did not pursue the subject. On my way back to my rooms half an hour later I stopped to speak for a few minutes with the hall-porter.
"Mr. Delora has not arrived yet, sir," he remarked.
"No!" I answered. "I dare say there has been some slight mistake. I fancy that he has telephoned to his niece."
The hall-porter looked a little puzzled.
"It is rather a curious thing, sir," he said, "but there seem to be a good many people who are wanting to see Mr. Delora. We have had at least a dozen inquiries for him during the last few days, and all from people who refuse to leave their names."