He was bidding his hostess an impressive farewell when Ingersoll and Tollemache appeared. Yvonne's father, observing men and events with a certain detachment in these days, was not drawn to the ungainly secretary. He was puzzled, at finding the man there, and even bewildered by the warmth of Yvonne's introduction. But Raymond was master of himself now. He withdrew promptly, trusting to Yvonne's enthusiasm to make smooth the way for his next visit. And indeed his back was hardly turned before she plunged into a recital of the day's doings.
Her father listened quietly, passing no comment other than to express a brief but complete agreement with every step she had taken.
Then she hurried out, being restless until assured that her messenger had really started for Quimperlé.
Ingersoll sighed deeply, rose to reach a tobacco jar from the mantel, and threw a question sidewise, as it were, at his companion, who was smoking meditatively, and apparently in a somewhat subdued mood.
"Lorry," he said, "what do you make of this chap Raymond?"
"I've no use for him, Socrates, and that's a fact."
"He seems to be acting in perfect good faith in this affair."
"Yes; but why?"
"That is what is bothering me. There are two points about his behavior that may have escaped you. In the first place, if Madeleine has gone to Paris by arrangement with that scamp Fosdyke, he of course will meet her at Saint Lazare, so what chance will Raymond's 'friend' have of intercepting her? Again, who is this Duquesne? I have a good memory, and I happen to recollect a notorious case reported in the newspapers about a month ago, a case in which a private inquiry agent of the name figured, and his address was in the Avenue Kleber. I don't profess to recall the number; but when name and street coincide it is safe to assume that Raymond's Duquesne and the other Duquesne are one and the same individual. Now the momentous question that presents itself is, Why should Raymond be in prior communication with a private inquiry agent in Paris?"