She remembered her
friend's last words to her. They had been kind, tender words, and though
Anna did not approve of Sylvia's friendship for Paul de Virieu, she had
spoken in a very understanding, sympathetic way, almost as a loving
mother might have spoken.
It was odd of Anna not to have left word she was going to Paris for the
day. In any case, the Wachners would know when Anna would be back. It was
with them that she had had supper yesterday evening--.
While these thoughts were passing disconnectedly through Sylvia's mind,
she suddenly saw the substantial figure of Madame Wachner walking slowly
along the sanded path by the side of the road.
"Madame Wachner! Madame Wachner!" she cried out eagerly, and the car drew
up with a jerk.
That citizeness of the world, as she had called herself, stepped down
from the kerb. She looked hot and tired. It was a most unusual time for
Madame Wachner to be out walking, and by herself, in Lacville.
But Sylvia was thinking too much about Anna Wolsky to trouble about
anything else.
"Have you heard that Anna Wolsky is away for the day?" she exclaimed.
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