“Ridiculous to call an English girl by one of our names—”
“Had it of her own—she said a friend gave it to her, but she was very mysterious about it.”
“I’d like to see it,” said Mademoiselle.
“And so would I,” said Mrs Dawson.
“I’d like to see it for a reason,” said Mademoiselle. “Mademoiselle d’Etienne, you don’t mean—”
“I don’t know that I mean anything, but if I saw it, I’d know once for all.”
“What would you know?”
“I tell you what, Mrs Dawson. I have examined the bracelet that little Pauline Hungerford—one of my adorable pupils—has worn, which she got on the day of the break-up. I took it in my hand, and she allowed me to examine it, and I know the other was exactly the same except for the difference in the stones. I should like to see the bracelet that the young lady who ought not to possess bangles, wears.”
“I don’t believe you will: there’s something about that governess which makes me think her a deep one—I can’t be certain, but I have my suspicions—and she seemed distressed, I don’t know why, when I noticed the bangle on Miss Fanchon’s arm.”
“Leave the matter to me,” said Mademoiselle. “This interests me; but I must be calm. You and I, dear Madame, are true friends, are we not?”