"The
through train to Paris is her only address. I presume that Madame
Delavigne will spend some time in a sanitarium after this heart
attack, and she has my banker's address. It is only through them
that we meet to arrange some affairs of business. Whether maid, wife,
or widow, I know not, for you know what women are--sealed books to
their enemies, and to their husbands and lovers--only enigmas!
"But fail not to meet me. I'll give you a pleasant day. You will
find the two Americans both gushing and susceptible." Then as
Major Alan Hawke stepped lightly away to the sedately closed Hotel
Faucon, Casimir Wieniawski staggered back into the cafe.
His fit of passionate sorrow was brief, for in a half hour he was
the king of a mad revel, where his meaner sycophants divided Alan
Hawke's bounty. The cool Major strode along happy hearted to his
rest, quietly revolving the plan of campaign.
"There was then a sealed chapter in Valerie Troubetskoi's life.
And the key of that is in Berthe Louison's keeping. Now, my fair
employer, it is diamond cut diamond. I think that I have done a
fair day's work." And he thanked his lucky stars for the precipitate
flight of his mysterious employer. "She evidently feared the noble
Casimir following upon the trail. Strange--strange pathways! Strange
footprints on the sands of Time! It is a devilish funny world,
but, after all, the best that we have any authentic account of.
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