The door was opened by M. Polperro himself. Even busier than usual was
the merry, capable little chef, for as it happened Madame Polperro had
had to go away for two or three days.
"I want to know," said Chester abruptly, "if you can let me have a room
for to-night? The room the Comte de Virieu occupied is, I suppose,
disengaged?"
"I will see, M'sieur--I will inquire!"
M. Polperro did not know what to make of this big Englishman who had come
in out of the night, bringing no luggage with him but one little bag.
Then he suddenly remembered! Why, of course, this was the friend of the
pretty, charming, wealthy Madame Bailey; the English gentleman who had
been staying during the past few days at the Pension Malfait! A gentleman
who was called after a well-known cheese--yes, Chester was his name.
Then this Mr. Chester's departure from Lacville had been a _fausse
sortie_--a _ruse_ to get rid of the Comte de Virieu, who was also in love
with the lovely young English widow?
Ah! Ah! M. Polperro felt very much amused. Never had he heard of anything
so droll! But the Englishman's tale of love was not to run smooth after
all, for now another complication had arisen, and the very last one any
sensible man would have expected!
"Yes, M'sieur," said M.
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