"But I must thank you, Aunt Flora, for your kindness."
"My kindness!" said the other, bitterly, and her harsh voice took on a softer note. "It is a kindness your coming to me, to cheer me in my loneliness. I hope you will stay long."
"But you have your husband, Aunt Flora."
"Eddy--oh, yes; but he does not sleep in this place. I found him such a nuisance that I gave him money to take chambers. I see very little of him, as I found what a mistake I had made in marrying him. He cares nothing for me, but a great deal for what money I have. Don't speak of him."
Before Audrey could say anything more Badoura returned with the information that the bedroom was ready. Madame Coralie, who seemed to be a singularly capable woman who knew her own mind, at once insisted that her visitor should retire. So it was that in a very short space of time Audrey found herself in a comfortable bed. For a few moments she mused on the strange chance that had brought her to sleep in the very house wherein her mother had been murdered; then the great fatigue she felt overcame her and she fell into a profound slumber, which lasted until the morning. So deep it was that she did not even dream.
At ten o'clock next morning she awoke, and found her aunt standing beside her with a cup of tea. Madame Coralie explained how she had looked in once or twice before, but that Audrey had been sleeping so quietly that she had not had the heart to waken her.
"Drink this tea and take another sleep," advised Madame Coralie, wisely; "as the more you sleep after last night's experience the better you will feel."
Audrey, who still felt languid, willingly consented, and Madame went out quietly. She did not, however, through absence of mind, quite close the door, and Audrey was therefore wakened some time later by the sound of two voices conversing softly. At once she remembered that the still-room was opposite to the bedroom she occupied. Evidently its door was open, and, as her own door was not closed, she could hear very plainly. Half awake and half asleep she listened, not meaning to eavesdrop, but simply because she felt too tired to close the door or to give any evidence of her presence.
The voices were those of a man and a woman, and Audrey recognised the latter one as that of Badoura. But who the man was she could not guess.
"You are very cruel," said Badoura, addressing her companion softly. "You are tired of me, I am sure."