And at last
they were all gone but one. He seemed to hear them, their footsteps
receding faintly along the corridors.
She held an unset pearl in her hand.
"This one 'ave a ver' nice leetle story. A brigand give it me when 'e
'old up ze train between Mexico City and ze coast. A fine fellow--with
a sombrero and a manner!" (She looked past Stonehouse, smiling, as
though she too saw the shadow twirling its black moustache and staring
back at her with gallant admiration.) "And brave too, _nombre de
Dios_! And 'e bow and say: 'One does not take ransom from Mademoiselle
Labelle. One pays tribute.' And 'e give me this to remember 'im
by--as I give it you, Monsieur Robert."
He stood up sharply.
"No--I--I don't care for that kind of thing."
"For your wife, then!"
"I am not married."
"But one day per'aps? You love someone, _hein_?" (Had she wilfully
forgotten? She studied his face with a wicked curiosity. He could not
answer her.) "Give it 'er then--Monsieur Robert--_pour me faire
plaisir_."
"There is no one to give it to."
"But there was----"
He tried desperately to regain the old sarcastic inflection.
"No doubt it seems inevitable to you."
"Tell me about 'er. _Voyons_, if you can't keep me alive, _Monsieur
mon docteur_, you might at least amuse me."
"There is nothing to tell. I will give you something that will make
you sleep."
"I do not want to sleep. That is bad, ugly sleep that you give me.
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