"Who is this?" he asked.
A very slow, musical voice answered him. He never for a moment had a doubt as to whose it might be.
"Is this Sir Julien Portel?"
"This is Julien Portel," he answered. "Who is it speaking?"
"I am Henriette Christophor," the voice replied. "I had word from
England, Sir Julien Portel, that you were coming to see me."
"I shall do myself that honor," Julien assured her, "before I leave
Paris."
"You were not polite," the voice continued, "that you did not come this afternoon."
"Madame," Julien said, "I am not here to make acquaintances. It is true that I promised to call upon you; I do not know why, I do not know whom I promised, I do not know for what reason I was asked to come. Since I have promised, however, and you are kind enough to desire it, I will come."
"And why not now?" the voice persisted. "You are alone in Paris, are you not? I have something to say to you, something which is best said quickly."
Julien hesitated.