“Don’t trouble to come down with me.”
“If—if Batouch is not there—might not I guard you, Madame?” She remembered the Count’s words and answered:
“Let me tell you where I am going. I am going to say good-bye to Count Anteoni before he starts for his desert journey.”
Androvsky stood there without a word.
“Now, do you care to come if I don’t find Batouch? Mind, I’m not the least afraid.”
“Perhaps he is there—if you told him.” He muttered the words. His whole manner had changed. Now he looked more than suspicious—cloudy and fierce.
“Possibly.”
She began to descend the stairs. He did not follow her, but stood looking after her. When she reached the arcade it was deserted. Batouch had forgotten or had overslept himself. She could have walked on under the roof that was the floor of the verandah, but instead she stepped out into the road. Androvsky was above her by the parapet. She glanced up and said:
“He is not here, but it is of no consequence. Dawn is breaking. Au revoir!”
Slowly he took off his hat. As she went away down the road he was holding it in his hand, looking after her.