As though electrified by this contact, the two young people trembled, their eyes met in a glance full of troubled emotion—a feeling new to both—whose immense significance neither understood. Fandor remained speechless, and Elizabeth blushed.
They gazed at each other, embarrassed, not knowing what to say for themselves; and their embarrassment was only relieved by the appearance of the sister who attended to the turning box at the entrance gate. She stood at the top of the steps leading down to the park and called Elizabeth.
"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! There is someone on the telephone who wishes to speak to you!"
Fandor rose.
"Will you allow me to accompany you, mademoiselle? I am very curious to know whether the person now asking for you is identical with the person who asked for you a little while ago?"
The young couple hurried to the big parlour, and Elizabeth went to the telephone.
"Hullo?..."
Elizabeth had handed one of the receivers to Fandor. He heard a voice—an unknown voice, but beyond question masculine—who said, over the wire:
"Hullo!... Is it really Mademoiselle Dollon to whom I have the honour of speaking?"
"Yes, monsieur. Who is speaking to me?"