Monsieur to go, all would still be well.' And holding the door with his bony old hand, edging himself half outside, Joseph whispered, still more piercingly: 'If Madame would empower me, now, to go in to Madame la comtesse and tell her that she and Monsieur had left Buissac for good—ah—that would be the blow to deal her! That would be to protect Mademoiselle Marthe!'
Jill stood gazing at him. She felt petrified.
Suddenly, within, the drawing-room door opened and behind Joseph she saw that Madame de Lamouderie had emerged into the hall.
'What is it? What are you doing? Whom are you keeping out?—I will report you at once to Mademoiselle Marthe!' she cried in a strange, hoarse voice that Jill had never heard from her before.
Joseph, not replying, stepped back and Jill entered. She could not have made Joseph that promise. For herself it might have been given; but not for Graham, and it was Graham Joseph feared.
'It's I. It's Jill Graham. I've come to see you,' she said.
Madame de Lamouderie stood on the threshold of the drawing-room, a hand on either side of the doorway, and she stared at Jill, one eye half closed, while her mouth opened and shut like the mouth of a fish lying on a river bank.
'Madame Graham? Is it indeed Madame Graham?—And what do you do here?' she asked in the hoarse voice.
'Why, I've come to see you. I've not seen you for so
