“Detectives.... They’re hunting for you.... They’ve searched your trunks.... They’re expecting the policemen from the town.... Run away, or you’re lost!”
The Countess tottered, and looking as if she were about to faint, leaned against the bar. Her eyes met Ralph’s in a supplication. It was for all the world as if she thought that she was lost and begged him to help her.
Ralph was stupefied. He stammered:
“B-b-but what d-d-do the police matter to you? It isn’t you they’re looking for!... Why on earth——”
“Yes, yes! It is her!” said Mother Vasseur. “They are looking for her!... Save her!”
Without grasping the full significance of this astonishing scene, Ralph divined that here was something in the nature of a tragedy. He caught the Countess by the arm, drew her to the door, and thrust her through it.
But crossing the threshold first, she started back in affright and cried:
“The police! They have seen me!”
The two of them hastily stepped back into the house. Mother Vasseur was trembling in every limb; she muttered stupidly:
“The police ... the detectives.”