" She added as Duchemin stepped out
through the window: "Where are you going?"
"To look for footprints on the tiling. It was misting when I went to
bed, and with the mud--"
"But there was a heavy shower just before daybreak. If the thieves had
left any tracks on the terrasse, the rain must have washed them clean
away. I have already looked."
With a baffled gesture, Duchemin turned back to her side.
"You have communicated with the police, of course."
She interrupted with an accent almost of impatience: "I have told
nobody but you, monsieur, not even my mother and Louise."
"But why?"
"I wanted to consult you first, and..." She broke off sharply to ask:
"Yes, Jean: what is it?"
The footman had entered to bring her cards over which Eve de Montalais
arched her brows.
"Show the gentlemen in, please."
The servant retired.
"The men from Paris, madame?"
"Yes. You will excuse me--?"
Duchemin bowed. "But one word: You can hardly do better than put the
case in the hands of these gentlemen. They are apt to be of a good
order of intelligence when selected to serve bankers, you know.
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