The best thing she could do would be to leave a note inviting Madame
Wachner and L'Ami Fritz to dinner at the Villa du Lac. Count Paul was to
be in Paris this evening, so his eyes would not be offended by the sight
of the people of whom he so disapproved. Madame Wachner would probably be
glad to dine out, the more so that no proper meal seemed to have been
prepared by that unpleasant day-servant. Why, the woman had not even laid
the cloth for her employers' supper!
Sylvia looked instinctively round for paper and envelopes, but there
was no writing-table, not even a pencil and paper, in the little
drawing-room. How absurd and annoying!
But, stay--somewhere in the house there must be writing materials.
Treading softly, and yet hearing her footsteps echoing with unpleasant
loudness through the empty house, Sylvia Bailey walked past the open door
of the little kitchen, and so to the end of the passage.
Then something extraordinary happened.
While in the act of opening the door of Madame Wachner's bed-room, the
young Englishwoman stopped and caught her breath.
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