All day Chauvelin had wondered how it would all go off. He had stage-
managed everything, but he did not know how the chief actor would play
his part.
From time to time, when his feeling of restlessness became quite
unendurable, the ex-ambassador would wander round Fort Gayole and
on some pretext or other demand to see one or the other of his prisoners.
Marguerite, however, observed complete silence in his presence: she
acknowledged his greeting with a slight inclination of the head, and in
reply to certain perfunctory queries of his-- which he put to her in order
to justify his appearance--she either nodded or gave curt monosyllabic
answers through partially closed lips.
"I trust that everything is arranged for your comfort, Lady Blakeney."
"I thank you, sir."
"You will be rejoining the 'Day-Dream' to-night. Can I send a messenger
over to the yacht for you?"
"I thank you. No."
"Sir Percy is well. He is fast asleep, and hath not asked for your ladyship.
Shall I let him know that you are well?"
A nod of acquiescence from Marguerite and Chauvelin's string of queries
was at an end.
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