She had no intention of leaving Lacville _then_. Do you say
you've received a letter from her?"
"Yes, M'sieur."
"Will you please show it me?"
"Certainly, M'sieur."
M. Polperro, followed closely by the Englishman, trotted off into his
office, a funny little hole of a place which had been contrived under the
staircase. It was here that Madame Polperro was supposed to spend her
busy days.
M. Polperro felt quite lost without his wife. Slowly, methodically, he
began to turn over the papers on the writing-table, which, with one
chair, filled up all the place.
There had evidently been a lovers' quarrel between these two peculiar
English people. What a pity that the gentleman, who had very properly
returned to beg the lady's pardon, had found his little bird flown--in
such poetic terms did the landlord in his own mind refer to Sylvia
Bailey.
The pretty Englishwoman's presence in the Villa du Lac had delighted M.
Polperro's southern, sentimental mind; he felt her to be so decorative,
as well as so lucrative, a guest for his beloved hotel. Mrs. Bailey had
never questioned any of the extras Madame Polperro put in her weekly
bills, and she had never become haggard and cross as other ladies did who
lost money at the Casino.
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