"Then coffee?"
"No, no, nothing at all. Go on to Charleville. We have nothing."
"How far is Charleville?"
But the door shut again, the bolts were shot, and a man's voice growled in the hidden room behind.
"Dubious hole. Yet it looks as though a big town were near——" And down the next slope she ran into Charleville. The town had been long abed, the street lamps were out, the cobbles wet and shining.
On the main boulevard one dark figure hurried along.
"Which is the 'Silver Lion'?" she called, her voice echoing in the empty street.
Soon, between rugs on a bed in the "Silver Lion," between a single sheet doubled in two, she slept—propping the lockless door with her suitcase.
The Renault slept or watched below in the courtyard, the moon sank, the small hours passed, the day broke, the first day in Charleville.