"Come in!" she called, without looking up. The maid, Marie, entered with pen and ink and a form that the police require the hotel-keepers to have filled out and filed by every guest.
She advanced, a little timidly, to the table and said.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you, madame, but the police make us go through this business." She held up the blank form.
The woman looked up, puzzled for a moment, and then nodded.
"Oh, yes, well then——Oh, write it yourself!" she snapped irritably, turning again to the cards. She took another drink of ether and looked up at the maid, as if she did not exactly remember the purpose of her visit.
"Monsieur and Madame Laroque," she said at last, listlessly, her eyes on the table. "From Buenos Ayres, on their way to Paris."
Marie filled in the blank.
"To Paris. Thank you, madame," she said. Then she stood looking curiously at the cards.
The woman raised her head.
"Is that all?"