"Besides, we have a witness to her visit," added Godfrey. "Shall I
call the police, madame?"
"No, no!" and the girl sat upright again, her face ghastly. "I will
tell. I will tell all. Give me but a moment!"
She sat there, struggling for self-control, her streaked and
grotesque countenance contorted with emotion. Then I saw her eyes
widen, and, glancing around, I saw that Rogers had dragged himself to
a sitting posture, and was staring at her, his face livid.
The sight of him seemed to madden her.
"It was you!" she shrieked, and shook her clenched fist at him. "It
was you who told! Coward! Coward!"
But Godfrey, his face very grim, laid a heavy hand upon her arm.
"Be still!" he cried. "He told us nothing! He tried to shield you
--though why he should wish to do so...."
Rogers broke in with a hollow and ghastly laugh.
"It was natural enough, sir," he said hoarsely. "She's my wife!"
CHAPTER XVI
PHILIP VANTINE'S CALLER
It was a sordid story that Rogers gasped out to us; and, as it
concerns this tale only incidentally, I shall pass over it as briefly
as may be.
Eight or ten years before, the fair Julie--at least, she was fairer
then than now!--had come to New York to enter the employ of a family
whose mistress had decided that life without a French maid was
unendurable.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165