21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series). E. Phillips Oppenheim
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made me take her out and show her where the murder was committed, and asked a great many questions about it. Then she insisted that I should go and hear her sing this evening, and I find that I was expected to take her on to supper afterwards. I excused myself for a little while, but I have promised to go to Luigi’s, where she will be.”
The girl was silent for a moment.
“Where are we going now, then?” she asked.
“Wherever you like. I can take you home first, or I can leave you anywhere.”
She looked at him with a piteous little smile.
“The last two nights you have spoiled me,” she said. “I have so many evil thoughts and I am afraid to go home.”
“I am sorry. If I could think of anything or anywhere—”
“No, you must take me home, please,” said she. “It was selfish of me. Only Mademoiselle Idiale is such a wonderful person. Do you think that she will want you every night?”
“Of course not,” he laughed. “Come, I will make an engagement with you. We will have supper together to-morrow evening.”
She brightened up at once.
“I wonder,” she asked timidly, a few minutes afterwards, “have you heard anything from Arthur? He promised to send a telegram from Queenstown.”
Laverick shook his head. He said nothing about the marconigram he had sent, or the answer which he had received informing him that there was no such person on board. It seemed scarcely worth while to worry her.
“I have heard nothing,” he replied. “Of course, he must be half-way to America by now.”
“There have been no more inquiries about him?” she asked.
“No more than the usual ones from his friends, and a few creditors. The latter I am paying as they come. But there is one thing you ought to do with me. I think we ought to go to his rooms and lock up his papers and letters. He never even went back, you know, after that night.”
She nodded thoughtfully.
“When would you like to do this?”
“I am so busy just now that I am afraid I can spare no time until Monday afternoon. Would you go with me then?”
“Of course… My time is my own. We have no matinee, and I have nothing to do except in the evening.”
They had reached her home. It looked very dark and very uninviting. She shivered as she took her latchkey from the bag which she was carrying.
“Come in with me, please, while I light the gas,” she begged. “It looks so dreary, doesn’t it?”
“You ought to have some one with you,” he declared, “especially in a part like this.”
“Oh, I am not really afraid,” she answered. “I am only lonely.”
He stood in the passage while she felt for a box of matches and lit the gas jet. In the parlor there was a bowl of milk standing waiting for her, and some bread.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “Now I am going to make up the fire and read for a short time. I hope that you will enjoy your supper—well, moderately,” she added, with a little laugh.
“I can promise you,” he answered, “that I shall enjoy it no more than last night’s or to-morrow night’s.”
She sighed.
“Poor little me!” she exclaimed. “It is not fair to have to compete with Mademoiselle Idiale. Good night!”
Something he saw in her eyes moved him strangely as he turned away.
“Would you like me,” he asked hesitatingly, “supposing I get away early—would you like me to come in and say good night to you later on?”
Her face was suddenly flushed with joy.
“Oh, do!” she begged. “Do!”
He turned away with a smile.
“Very well,” he said. “Don’t shut up just yet and I will try.”
“I shall stay here until three o’clock,” she declared,—“until four, even. You must come. Remember, you must come. See.”
She held out to him her key.
“I can knock at the door,” he protested. “You would hear me.”
“But I might fall asleep,” she answered. “I am afraid. If you have the key, I am sure that you will come.”
He put it in his waistcoat pocket with a laugh.
“Very well,” he said, “if it is only for five minutes, I will come.”
XXIV. A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGI’S
Laverick walked into Luigi’s Restaurant at about a quarter to twelve, and found the place crowded with many little supper-parties on their way to a fancy dress ball. The demand for tables was far in excess of the supply, but he had scarcely shown himself before the head maitre d’hotel came hurrying up.
“Mademoiselle Idiale is waiting for you, sir,” he announced at once. “Will you be so good as to come this way?”
Laverick followed him. She was sitting at the same table as last night, but she was alone, and it was laid, he noticed with surprise, only for two.
“You have treated me,” she said, as she held out her fingers, “to a new sensation. I have waited for you alone here for a quarter of an hour—I! Such a thing has never happened to me before.”
“You do me too much honor,” Laverick declared, seating himself and taking up the carte.
“Then, too,” she continued, “I sup alone with you. That is what I seldom do with any man. Not that I care for the appearance,” she added, with a contemptuous wave of the hand. “Nothing troubles me less. It is simply that one man alone wearies me. Almost always he will make love, and that I do not like. You, Mr. Laverick, I am not afraid of. I do not think that you will make love to me.”
“Any intentions I may have had,” Laverick remarked, with a sigh, “I forthwith banish. You ask a hard task of your cavaliers, though, Mademoiselle.”
She smiled and looked at him from under her eyelids.
“Not of you, I fancy, Mr. Laverick,” she said. “I do not think that you are one of those who make love to every woman because she is good-looking or famous.”
“To tell you the truth,” Laverick admitted, “I find it hard to make love to any one. I often feel the most profound admiration for individual members of your sex, but to express one’s self is difficult—sometimes it is even embarrassing. For supper?”
“It is ordered,” she declared. “You are my guest.”
“Impossible!” Laverick asserted firmly. “I have been your guest at the Opera. You at least owe me the honor of being mine for supper.”
She frowned a little. She was obviously unused to being contradicted.
“I sup with you, then, another night,” she insisted. “No,” she continued, “If you are going to look like that, I take it back. I sup with you to-night. This is an ill omen for our future acquaintance. I have given in to you already—I, who give in to no man. Give me some champagne, please.”
Laverick took the bottle from the ice-pail by his side, but the sommelier darted forward and served them.
“I drink to our better understanding of one another, Mr. Laverick,” she said, raising her glass, “and,