"
He held it so that I could see the title. It was "Monsieur Lecoq."
"I have read it in English," I said.
"And did you not like it--yes? I am ver' fond of stories of detection.
That is why I was so absorbed in that affair of Mees--Mees--ah, I have
forgotten! Your names are so difficult for me."
"Miss Holladay," I said.
"Ah, yes; and has that mystery ever arrived at a solution?"
"No," I said. "Unfortunately, we haven't any Monsieur Lecoqs on our
detective force."
"Ah, no," he smiled. "And the young lady--in her I conceived a great
interest, even though I did not see her--how is she?"
"The shock was a little too much for her," I said. "She's gone out to
her country-place to rest. She'll soon be all right again, I hope."
He had taken a third cigarette, and was lighting it carelessly, with
his face half-turned away from me. I noticed how flushed his neck was.
"Oh, undoubtedly," he agreed, after a moment; "at least, I should be
most sad to think otherwise. But it is late; I perceive that you are
weary; I thank you for your kindness."
"Not at all," I protested. "I hope you'll come in whenever you feel
lonely."
"A thousand thanks! I shall avail myself of your invitation. My
apartment is just across the hall," he added, as I opened the door. "I
trust to see you there.
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