At the top of the stairs, just after she had taken final leave
of her host, she suddenly say Chauvelin; he was coming up the stairs
slowly, and rubbing his thin hands very softly together.
There was a curious look on his mobile face, partly amused and
wholly puzzled, as his keen eyes met Marguerite's they became
strangely sarcastic.
"M. Chauvelin," she said, as he stopped on the top of the
stairs, bowing elaborately before her, "my coach is outside; may I
claim your arm?"
As gallant as ever, he offered her his arm and led her
downstairs. The crowd was very great, some of the Minister's guests
were departing, others were leaning against the banisters watching the
throng as it filed up and down the wide staircase.
"Chauvelin," she said at last desperately, "I must know what
has happened."
"What has happened, dear lady?" he said, with affected
surprise. "Where? When?"
"You are torturing me, Chauvelin. I have helped you
to-night. . .surely I have the right to know. What happened in the
dining-room at one o'clock just now?"
She spoke in a whisper, trusting that in the general hubbub of
the crowd her words would remain unheeded by all, save the man at her
side.
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