‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. “I knew you would feel it,” said Miss Miniver, as they came away flushed and heated. Words were given with their original meaning, without their ramifications. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Perhaps he had heard of this Enschede. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. “That’s what we narcs have to do. Fate has two methods of procedure—the sudden and the long-drawn-out. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity. I was compelled to run away. But this was a vicomte’s sister. His efforts at self-destruction were, however, prevented. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that.
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