Suddenly she bent forward and addressed her husband. "By the way, Ami
Fritz, have you written that letter to the Villa du Lac?" She nodded,
explaining to Sylvia, "We are anxious to get a room in your beautiful
pension for a rich friend of ours."
Sylvia had the instant feeling--she could not have told why--that his
wife's question had greatly annoyed Monsieur Wachner.
"Of course I have written the letter!" he snapped out. "Do I ever forget
anything?"
"But I'm afraid there is no room vacant in the Villa du Lac," said
Sylvia. "And yet--well, I suppose they have not yet had time to let the
Comte de Virieu's room. They only knew he was going this morning. But you
need not have troubled to write a letter, Monsieur Wachner. I could have
given the message when I got back to-night. In any case let me take your
letter."
"Ah! but the person in question may arrive before you get back," said
Madame Wachner. "No, no, we have arranged to send the letter by a cabman
who will call for it."
Monsieur Wachner pushed opened the white gate, and all three began
walking up through the garden.
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