He had said nothing of the offer which sooner or later must be formally made to her, but before they had parted she had given him as her address the Villa Fortunée, at Monaco. He remembered the strange fact of one of her letters being found in Nelly Bridson’s pocket, but when he mentioned it she had merely remarked that she had been acquainted with the unfortunate girl. Nevertheless, he also recollected that the letter had contained an expression never used in polite society, and that it had been considered by the police as an altogether extraordinary and rather incriminating document.
Confused and bewildered, he was walking beneath the awnings on the shops of the Quai Massena on his way to the Promenade, when suddenly he heard his name uttered, and on looking up found Liane standing before him smiling. In her tailor-made gown of pale fawn with a neat toque, she presented an extremely smart and fresh-looking appearance.
“You were so engrossed, George,” she said half-reproachfully, with a pretty pout, “that you were actually passing me unnoticed. What’s the matter? Something on your mind?”
“Yes,” he answered, endeavouring to laugh, so pleased was he that they had met. “I have something always on my mind—you.”
“Then I regret if thoughts of me induce such sadness,” she answered, as turning in the direction she was walking he strolled by her side. The March sun was so warm that its fiery rays burnt his face.
“Don’t speak like that, Liane,” he protested. “You surely must know how heavily those cruel words you spoke at Monte Carlo have fallen upon me. How can I have happiness when I know that ere long we must part?” They had crossed the road, and were entering the public garden in order that passers-by should not overhear their conversation, for in Nice half the people in the streets speak or understand English.
“Yes,” she sighed gloomily. “I know I ought not to have spoken like that, George. Forgive me, I know that happiness is not for me, yet I am trying not to wear my heart upon my sleeve.”
“But what compels you to marry this man, who was once an adventurer and swindler, and is still unscrupulous? Surely such a man is no fitting husband for you?”
Liane glanced at him quickly in surprise. If her lover knew of Zertho’s past he would no doubt have learnt that her father had also earned a precarious livelihood by his wits.
“Already I have told you that a secret tie binds me irrevocably to him,” she answered huskily, as slowly, side by side, they strolled beneath the trees.