But the young man shook his head. He shuffled first on one foot and then on
the other, looking miserably awkward. It was plain that he did not know
more than a word or two of English.

"I am sure," she said, speaking slowly and very distinctly, "that my
husband left some kind of message with your uncle or aunt. Will you please
ask one of them to speak to me?"

He nodded. "Si, mademoiselle" and walked quickly away, back into the
courtyard.

"Mademoiselle" again! What an extraordinary hotel, and what bad manners
these people had! And yet again and again Jack had compared English and
French hotels--always to the disadvantage of the former.

Long minutes went by, and Nancy began to feel vexed and angry. Then there
fell on her listening ears a phrase uttered very clearly in Madame
Poulain's resonant voice: "C'est ton tour maintenant! Vas-y, mon ami!"

And before she had time to try and puzzle out the sense of the words, she
saw Monsieur Poulain's portly figure emerge from the left side of the
courtyard, and then--when he caught sight of the slim, blue-clad figure
standing under his porte cochere--beat a hasty retreat.

Nancy's sense of discomfort and indignation grew. What did these people
mean by treating her like this? She longed with a painful, almost a sick
longing for her husband's return. It must be very nearly eleven o'clock.
Why did he stay away so long?