Nancy shook her head. "Tell him I mean to go too," she said quietly.
The man looked at her with an odd expression. "I should not myself care to take my wife or my sister to the Morgue, monsieur. Believe me her husband is not there. Do try and dissuade the poor lady." As he spoke he averted his eyes from Nancy's flushed face.
Gerald Burton hesitated: it was really kind of this good fellow to feel so much for a stranger's distress.
"Won't you stay here and let me go alone to that place? I think you can trust me. You see there is only one body there which in any way answers to the description."
"Yes, I quite understand that, but I'd rather go too." Her lips quivered.
"You see you've never seen Jack, Mr. Burton."
"I'm afraid this lady is quite determined to go too," said the young
American in a low voice; and without making any further objection, the
Frenchman filled in a form and silently handed it to Gerald Burton.
And then something happened which was perhaps more untoward and strange than Gerald realised.
He and Mrs. Dampier were already well started across the great sunny space in front of Notre Dame, when suddenly he felt himself tapped on the shoulder by the man from whom they had just parted.
"Monsieur, monsieur!" said the French official breathlessly, "I forgot a most important point. Visitors to the Morgue are not allowed to see all the bodies exposed in our mortuary. When the place was closed to the public we went from one extreme to the other. The man whose description you think approximates to that of the gentleman you are looking for is Number 4. Tell the guardian to show you Number 4."
Then he turned on his heel, without awaiting the other's thanks; and as he walked away, the Frenchman said aloud, not once but many times, "Pauvre petite dame!" And then again and again, "Paume petite dame!"