I went directly to her.
“So here you are,” I said, “ready to go back to that St. Pierre you love so much. Aren’t you glad?”
“Oh, very glad,” she answered, with a single listless glance at me. “I shall never come back to this horrible place.”
“And Tremaine will join you in two weeks,” I added.
This time she looked at me—a lightning flash!-a glance that brought back vividly my dream.
“Will he?” she asked between her teeth.
“Why,” I questioned, in affected surprise, “don’t you think he will?”
She drew in her breath with a quick gasp.
“What does it matter? I’m only a fille-de-couleur. I shall laugh and forget, like all the others,” and, indeed, a strange unnatural excitement had come into her face.
I saw her eyes devouring Tremaine as he approached.
“Everything is arranged,” he said cheerily, shaking hands with me. “Here are the checks, Cecily. Now take us down to your stateroom and do the honours.”
“As you please, doudoux,” she answered quietly, and led the way.
It was a very pleasant cabin, one of the best on board, and I saw that some of her personal belongings were already scattered about it. Against the hot-water pipe in one corner was hanging Fê-Fê’s cage. A curtain had been tied about it to protect its tender occupant from the cold.
