Drawing a small silver pencil from her pocket with trembling fingers, she wrote an address upon the back of a program.
“There, monsieur. This is it.
“I think—” She shifted her feet uneasily. “I am sure she works rather late. If you were to call, perhaps in an hour, you might find her there.”
“So late as this?” The Frenchman raised his eyebrows.
“I am sure she would not mind.”
“Very well. I shall try. And a thousand thanks.” He pressed a coin in her unwilling hand. The next moment he had vanished.
“Gone!” she murmured, sinking into a seat. “Gone! And he had an important message for me! Oh! I must hurry home!”
Even as she spoke these words she detected a rustle at the back of the box. Having turned quickly about, she was just in time to see someone pass into the narrow aisle. It was the lady in black.
“I wonder if she heard?” Jeanne’s heart sank.
As she left the Opera House the little French girl’s spirits were low.