She steals to her lover. Jules Tessier starts, seeing Marie
in the ante-room at the Cafe Ney. There are, even here, curious
spies.
Marie's eyes are flashing; her bosom heaves. "Come instantly,
Jules! it is the hour. My coupe is here."
"Mon Dieu, in an instant!" The sly Jules knows from her shaken
voice the golden hoard is in danger.
In a few moments he is by her side in the coupe. "Where to?"
huskily asks the head-waiter.
"To the 'bal de minuit.' We can talk there."
"Allons! au Jardin Bullier," he cries.
Before the "fiacre" stops, Jules has an idea of the situation. Ah!
a grand "coup." Jules is a genius!
Seated in a bosky arbor, the two talk in lowest tones over their
chicken and Burgundy.
There is a noisy party in the next arbor, but a pair of dark Italian
eyes peer like basilisks through the leaves of the tawdry shade.
The lovers are unconscious of the listener.
With joint toil, the pair of lovers prepare a letter to Leroyne &
Co., bankers, 16 Rue Vivienne.
Marie's trembling hand draws the paper from her bosom. She knows
that address by heart.
"Give it to me, Marie," he pleads, "for safety." A FRENCHWOMAN can
deny her lover nothing.
"Now, listen, 'ma cherie,'" Jules murmurs.
Pages:
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487