“Joshua tells me that in my absence Mademoiselle left ze house to motor wiz Monsieur Hunter.”
“If she asks for me on her return tell her that I will be back in time to lunch with her and Miss Cynthia.”
“Oui, madame.” Annette assisted Mrs. Winthrop into her coat, then left the bedroom. From a safe distance down the hall she watched Mrs. Winthrop descend the staircase, and waited until she heard Joshua close the front door after her and retreat into his own domain. She then slipped noiselessly down the hall and into Mrs. Winthrop’s bedroom. Half an hour passed before she again appeared, wearing a satisfied smile. The hall was empty. “I have seen what I have seen,” she muttered under her breath exultingly, as she proceeded downstairs. “And I think I will haf more monie by to-morrow. Mon Dieu!”
The peal of the front bell had startled her from her reverie. As Joshua did not appear to answer it, she crossed the square hall and opened the door. A tall man, wearing nondescript clothes, confronted her in the vestibule.
“Miss Thornton, is she in?” he questioned. The contrast of his deep blue eyes against his tanned skin and black beard held her attention. Receiving no reply, he repeated his question with emphasis.
“Non, Mademoiselle is out in ze motor,” she answered, none too civilly.
Without a word he turned on his heel and hastened down the steps. Annette stared up the street after him; then closed the door softly, her pretty forehead puckered in a frown. Where had she seen those eyes before?