“Without any doubt,” said Varhely, in an odd tone, pulling his rough moustache, “and I hope to prove it to you some day.”
CHAPTER XXV. THE HOME OF “PUCK”
Prince Zilah did not observe at all the marked significance old Yanski gave to this last speech. He shook Varhely’s hand, entered a cab, and, casting a glance at the journal in his hands, he ordered the coachman to drive to the office of ‘L’Actualite’, Rue Halevy, near the Opera.
The society journal, whose aim was represented by its title, had its quarters on the third floor in that semi-English section where bars, excursion agencies, steamboat offices, and manufacturers of travelling-bags give to the streets a sort of Britannic aspect. The office of ‘L’Actualite’ had only recently been established there. Prince Zilch read the number of the room upon a brass sign and went up.
In the outer office there were only two or three clerks at work behind the grating. None of these had the right to reveal the names hidden under pseudonyms; they did not even know them. Zilch perceived, through an open door, the reporters’ room, furnished with a long table covered with pens, ink, and pads of white paper. This room was empty; the journal was made up in the evening, and the reporters were absent.
“Is there any one who can answer me?” asked the Prince.
“Probably the secretary can,” replied a clerk. “Have you a card, Monsieur? or, if you will write your name upon a bit of paper, it will do.”
Andras did so; the clerk opened a door in the corridor and disappeared. After a minute or two he reappeared, and said to the Prince:
“If you will follow me, Monsieur Freminwill see you.”