“Oh, of course, nothing ’as ’appened.” Madame Wachner dropped soothingly into English. “All I mean is that Madame Wolsky did not come to us yesterday evening. We stayed in on purpose, but, as English people say so funnily, she never turn up!”
“But she was coming to tea as well as to supper!”
“Yes, we waited for ’er a long time, and I ’ad got such a beautiful little supper! But, alas! she did not come—no, not at all.”
“How odd of her! Perhaps she got a telegram which contained bad news—”
“Yes,” said Madame Wachner eagerly, “no doubt. For this morning when I go to the Pension Malfait, I ’ear that she ’as gone away! It was for that I was ’urrying to the Villa du Lac to see if you knew anything, dear friend.”
“Gone away?” repeated Sylvia, bewildered. “But it is inconceivable that Anna could have left Lacville without telling me—or, for the matter of that, without telling you, too—”
“She ’as taken what you in England call ‘French leave,’” said Madame Wachner drily. “It was not very considerate of ’er. She might ’ave sent us word last night. We would not then ’ave waited to ’ave our nice supper.”
“She can’t have gone away without telling me,” repeated Sylvia. She was staring straight into her companion’s red face: Madame Wachner still looked very hot and breathless. “I am sure she would never have done such a thing. Why should she?”
The older woman shrugged her shoulders.
“I expect she will come back soon,” she said consolingly. “She ’as left her luggage at the Pension Malfait, and that, after all, does not look as if she ’as gone for evare!”
“Left her luggage?” cried Sylvia, in a relieved tone. “Why, then, of course, she is coming back! I expect she has gone to Paris for a night in order to see friends passing through. How could the Pension Malfait people think she had gone—I mean for good? You know, Madame Wachner”—she lowered her voice, for she did not wish the driver to hear what she was about to say—“you know that Anna won a very large sum of money two nights ago.”
Sylvia Bailey was aware that people had been robbed and roughly handled, even in idyllic Lacville, when leaving the Casino after an especial stroke of luck at the tables.
“I do hope nothing has happened to her!”
“’Appened to ’er? What do you mean?” Madame Wachner spoke quite crossly. “Who ever thought of such a thing!” And she fanned herself vigorously with a paper fan she held in her left hand. “As to her winnings—yes, she won a lot of money the night she took the bank. But, remember that she ’as ’ad plenty of time yesterday to lose it all again—ah, yes!”
“But she meant to give up play till Monday,” said Sylvia, eagerly. “I feel sure she never went inside the Casino yesterday.”
“Oh, but she did. My ’usband saw her there.”
“At what time?” asked Sylvia, eagerly.