She spoke in a voice that was sweet, with a clear, bell-like note.
“Le Général de Launay, is it not? I have been seeking monsieur.”
“Colonel, if mademoiselle pleases,” he answered. Then suspicion crept into his dulled brain. “Mademoiselle seeks me? Pardon, but I am hardly a likely object——”
She interrupted him with an impatient wave of a well-kept hand. “Monsieur need not be afraid. It is true that I have been seeking him, but my motive is harmless. If Monsieur Doolittle, the banker, has told me the truth——”
De Launay’s suspicions grew rapidly. “If Doolittle 58 has been talking, I can tell you right now, mademoiselle, that it is useless. What you desire I am not disposed to grant.”
Mademoiselle caught the meaning of the intonation rather than any in the words. Her inviting mouth curled scornfully. Her answer was still bell-like but it was also metallic and commanding.
“Sit down!” she said, curtly.
De Launay, who, for many years had been more used to giving orders than receiving them, at least in that manner, sat down. He could not have explained why he did. He did not try to. She sat down opposite him and he looked helplessly for a waiter, feeling the need of stimulation.
“You have doubtless had enough to drink,” said the girl, and De Launay meekly turned back to her. “You wonder, perhaps, why I am here,” she went on. “I have said that Monsieur Doolittle has told me that you are an American, that you contemplate returning to your own country——”
“Mademoiselle forgets or does not know,” interrupted De Launay, “that I am not American for nearly twenty years.”