Part 58 (1/2)

”It was an expensive journey for you,” I remarked.

She laughed.

”Henri did leave me everything,” she said. ”I have no need of money. If monsieur--”

She sighed, and looked towards the door of Felicia's room. Then she fluttered away down the corridor, and I slowly retraced my steps. Felicia came out in a few minutes and sat by her uncle's side. The others had all departed, and we were left alone.

”Dear,” I said, ”this is no place for you any longer. You must come with me, and bring your uncle.”

She held out both her hands.

”Wherever you say, Austen!” she murmured.

A year afterwards I persuaded Felicia to lunch at the Milan. She was no longer nervous, for we were intensely curious to know if Louis were still there.

”There is no doubt,” I reminded her, ”that your Uncle Maurice received the sum of forty thousand pounds in notes. When he was found shot, there was in his pocket-book a draft to the amount of one hundred and sixty thousand pounds. The notes had vanished. I wonder where!”

”I wonder!” she answered.

A waiter whom I knew came up to greet us. I asked him about Louis. He held out his hands.