"
He got up and silently obeyed his wife. Before leaving the room he
slipped the key of the garden gate into his trousers pocket.
A moment later Sylvia, left alone, could hear them talking eagerly to one
another in that strange, unknown tongue in which they sometimes--not
often--addressed one another.
She got up from her chair, seized with a sudden, eager desire to slip
away before they came back. For a moment she even thought of leaving the
house without waiting for her hat and little fancy bag; and then, with a
strange sinking of the heart she remembered that the white gate was
locked, and that L'Ami Fritz had now the key of it in his pocket.
But in no case would Sylvia have had time to do what she had thought of
doing, for a moment later her host and hostess were back in the room.
Madame Wachner sat down again at the dining-table,
"One moment!" she exclaimed, rather breathlessly. "Just wait till I 'ave
finished my coffee, Sylvia dear, and then L'Ami Fritz will escort you
'ome."
Rather unwillingly, Sylvia again sat down.
Monsieur Wachner was paying no attention either to his guest or to his
wife.
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