The Greatest Adventures of Arsène Lupin (Boxed-Set). Морис Леблан

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      Bernard dropped on his knees and clasped his hands.

      "Forgive me!" he cried, in a choking voice. "Forgive me! Don't tell any one! For God's sake, don't tell any one!"

      And the tears came streaming from his eyes.

      "You young rogue!" said the Duke quietly.

      "I'll never do it again—never! Oh, have pity on me! If my father knew! Oh, let me off!" cried Bernard.

      The Duke hesitated, and looked down on him, frowning and pulling at his moustache. Then, more quickly than one would have expected from so careless a trifler, his mind was made up.

      "All right," he said slowly. "Just for this once ... be off with you." And he jerked him to his feet and almost threw him into the outer hall.

      "Thanks! ... oh, thanks!" said Bernard.

      The Duke shut the door and looked at Sonia, breathing quickly.

      "Well? Did you ever see anything like that? That young fellow will go a long way. The cheek of the thing! Right under our very eyes! And this pendant, too: it would have been a pity to lose it. Upon my word, I ought to have handed him over to the police."

      "No, no!" cried Sonia. "You did quite right to let him off—quite right."

      The Duke set the pendant on the ledge of the bureau, and came down the hall to Sonia.

      "What's the matter?" he said gently. "You're quite pale."

      "It has upset me ... that unfortunate boy," said Sonia; and her eyes were swimming with tears.

      "Do you pity the young rogue?" said the Duke.

      "Yes; it's dreadful. His eyes were so terrified, and so boyish. And, to be caught like that ... stealing ... in the act. Oh, it's hateful!"

      "Come, come, how sensitive you are!" said the Duke, in a soothing, almost caressing tone. His eyes, resting on her charming, troubled face, were glowing with a warm admiration.

      "Yes; it's silly," said Sonia; "but you noticed his eyes—the hunted look in them? You pitied him, didn't you? For you are kind at bottom."

      "Why at bottom?" said the Duke.

      "Oh, I said at bottom because you look sarcastic, and at first sight you're so cold. But often that's only the mask of those who have suffered the most.... They are the most indulgent," said Sonia slowly, hesitating, picking her words.

      "Yes, I suppose they are," said the Duke thoughtfully.

      "It's because when one has suffered one understands.... Yes: one understands," said Sonia.

      There was a pause. The Duke's eyes still rested on her face. The admiration in them was mingled with compassion.

      "You're very unhappy here, aren't you?" he said gently.

      "Me? Why?" said Sonia quickly.

      "Your smile is so sad, and your eyes so timid," said the Duke slowly. "You're just like a little child one longs to protect. Are you quite alone in the world?"

      His eyes and tones were full of pity; and a faint flush mantled Sonia's cheeks.

      "Yes, I'm alone," she said.

      "But have you no relations—no friends?" said the Duke.

      "No," said Sonia.

      "I don't mean here in France, but in your own country.... Surely you have some in Russia?"

      "No, not a soul. You see, my father was a Revolutionist. He died in Siberia when I was a baby. And my mother, she died too—in Paris. She had fled from Russia. I was two years old when she died."

      "It must be hard to be alone like that," said the Duke.

      "No," said Sonia, with a faint smile, "I don't mind having no relations. I grew used to that so young ... so very young. But what is hard—but you'll laugh at me—"

      "Heaven forbid!" said the Duke gravely.

      "Well, what is hard is, never to get a letter ... an envelope that one opens ... from some one who thinks about one—"

      She paused, and then added gravely: "But I tell myself that it's nonsense. I have a certain amount of philosophy."

      She smiled at him—an adorable child's smile.

      The Duke smiled too. "A certain amount of philosophy," he said softly. "You look like a philosopher!"

      As they stood looking at one another with serious eyes, almost with eyes that probed one another's souls, the drawing-room door flung open, and Germaine's harsh voice broke on their ears.

      "You're getting quite impossible, Sonia!" she cried. "It's absolutely useless telling you anything. I told you particularly to pack my leather writing-case in my bag with your own hand. I happen to open a drawer, and what do I see? My leather writing-case."

      "I'm sorry," said Sonia. "I was going—"

      "Oh, there's no need to bother about it. I'll see after it myself," said Germaine. "But upon my word, you might be one of our guests, seeing how easily you take things. You're negligence personified."

      "Come, Germaine ... a mere oversight," said the Duke, in a coaxing tone.

      "Now, excuse me, Jacques; but you've got an unfortunate habit of interfering in household matters. You did it only the other day. I can no longer say a word to a servant—"

      "Germaine!" said the Duke, in sharp protest.

      Germaine turned from him to Sonia, and pointed to a packet of envelopes and some letters, which Bernard Charolais had knocked off the table, and said, "Pick up those envelopes and letters, and bring everything to my room, and be quick about it!"

      She flung out of the room, and slammed the door behind her.

      Sonia seemed entirely unmoved by the outburst: no flush of mortification stained her cheeks, her lips did not quiver. She stooped to pick up the fallen papers.

      "No, no; let me, I beg you," said the Duke, in a tone of distress. And dropping on one knee, he began to gather together the fallen papers. He set them on the table, and then he said: "You mustn't mind what Germaine says. She's—she's—she's all right at heart. It's her manner. She's always been happy, and had everything she wanted. She's been spoiled, don't you know. Those kind of people never have any consideration for any one else. You mustn't let her outburst hurt you."

      "Oh, but I don't. I don't really," protested Sonia.

      "I'm glad of that," said the Duke. "It isn't really worth noticing."

      He drew the envelopes and unused cards into a packet, and handed them to her.

      "There!" he said, with a smile. "That won't be too heavy for you."

      "Thank you," said Sonia, taking it from him.

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