I hate this place—I hate the sea—It is all of no use—I shall go back to Paris.
XVI
The first thing I learned when I reached the appartement was that the Duchesse had returned, and wished to see me. This was good news—and without even telephoning to Maurice, I got into my one horse Victoria and repaired to the Hotel de Courville—.
The Duchesse was sitting in her boudoir upstairs when I got in.—She had a quaint expression upon her face. I was not certain that her greeting was as cordial as usual—Has gossip reached her ears also?
I sat down near her and she took my crutch from me tenderly, her instinct for "blessés" never failing her.
I thought I would begin at once before she could say anything which might make questioning her impossible.
"I have been longing to see you, Duchesse, to ask you if you could help me to find out who my secretary, Miss Sharp, is?—because I saw her here in the passage one day, and I thought you might possibly be able to identify her—."
"Tiens?"