could not be sorry that Sylvia's friend had left Lacville. He had no wish for her return.
At last they came to a rather mean-looking white house; out of one of the windows hung a tricolour flag.
"Here we are!" he said briefly.
"It doesn't look a very imposing place," said Sylvia smiling.
But all the same, as the Count rang the bell Sylvia suddenly felt as if she would like to run away! After all, what should she say to the Commissioner of Police? Would he think her interference in Anna's affairs strange and uncalled for? But she kept her thoughts to herself.
They were shown into a room where a tired-looking man bent over a large, ink-stained table littered over with papers.
"Monsieur? Madame?" he glanced up inquiringly, and gave them a searching look. But he did not rise from the table, as Sylvia expected him to do. "What can I do for you?" he said. "I am at your service," and again he stared with insistent curiosity at the couple before him, at the well-dressed young Englishwoman and at her French companion.
The Count explained at some length why they had come.
And then at last the Commissioner of Police got up.
"Madame has now been at Lacville three weeks?"—and he quickly made a note of the fact on a little tablet he held in his hand. "And her friend, a Polish lady named Wolsky, has left Lacville rather suddenly? Madame has, however, received a letter from her friend explaining that she had to leave unexpectedly?"
