The mere fact that they were going out alarmed madame. Marjory stopped in the hall and quite coolly worked on her gloves.
"We are going for a little walk in the sunshine," she said. "Will you not come with us?"
Decidedly madame would not. She was too weak and faint. She should send for a friend to stay with her while she rested on her bed.
"That is best for you," nodded Marjory. "Au revoir."
With Marie by her side, she took her little walk in the sunshine, without hurrying, as far as around the first corner. Then she signaled for a cab, and showed the driver a louis d'or.
"Hôtel Normandie. This is for you—if you make speed," she said.
It was a wonder the driver was not arrested within a block; but it was nothing less than a miracle that he reached the hotel without loss of life. A louis d'or is a great deal of money, but these Americans are all mad. When Marie followed her mistress from the cab, she made a little prayer of thanks to the bon Dieu who had saved her life.
Mademoiselle inquired of the clerk for Monsieur Covington.
Yes, Monsieur Covington had reached the hotel some fifteen minutes before. But he was ill. He had met with an accident. Already a surgeon was with him.
"He—he is not badly injured?" inquired Marjory.