"Madame Ceiron!... Madame Ceiron!"
A man's voice answered and a laundryman came downstairs carrying a basket.
"The concièrge is on the sixth floor, Mademoiselle. I passed her as I was going up to get M. de Sérac's laundry."
"Ah, thank you, then I will wait for her."
Marie Pascal took a seat in the office, but at the end of ten minutes she became bored and decided to go out and get a breath of the fresh morning air.
As she reached the entrance she noticed an article of clothing lying on the ground.
"A woman's chemise," she exclaimed, picking it up. "The laundryman must have dropped it."
Then suddenly she grew pale and retraced her steps to the office.
"Good God!" she cried, leaning for support upon the back of a chair.
[1] See "A Nest of Spies."