"Perhaps other girls have disappeared and now are buried in the
cellars," she thought.
And the dreadful young voice added aloud.
"Because they would HAVE to kill me."
One of the Persian kittens curled up in the basket wakened because
he heard it and stretched a sleepy paw and mewed at her.
Coombe House was one of the old ones, wearing somewhat the aspect
of a stately barrack with a fine entrance. Its court was enclosed
at the front by a stone wall, outside which passing London roared
in low tumult. The court was surrounded by a belt of shrubs strong
enough to defy the rain of soot which fell quietly upon them day
and night.
The streets were already lighted for the evening when Mademoiselle
Valle presented herself at the massive front door and asked for
Lord Coombe. The expression of her face, and a certain intensity
of manner, caused the serious-looking head servant, who wore no
livery, to come forward instead of leaving her to the footmen.
"His lordship engaged with--a business person--and must not be
disturbed," he said. "He is also going out."
"He will see me," replied Mademoiselle Valle. "If you give him
this card he will see me."
She was a plainly dressed woman, but she had a manner which removed
her entirely from the class of those who merely came to importune.
There was absolute certainty in the eyes she fixed with steadiness
on the man's face.
Pages:
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323