A SUPPER PARTY AT LUIGI'S
Laverick walked into Luigi's Restaurant at about a quarter to twelve, and found the place crowded with many little supper-parties on their way to a fancy dress ball. The demand for tables was far in excess of the supply, but he had scarcely shown himself before the head maitre d'hotel came hurrying up.
"Mademoiselle Idiale is waiting for you, sir," he announced at once.
"Will you be so good as to come this way?"Laverick followed him. She was sitting at the same table as last night, but she was alone, and it was laid, he noticed with surprise, only for two.
"You have treated me," she said, as she held out her fingers, "to a new sensation. I have waited for you alone here for a quarter of an hour - I! Such a thing has never happened to me before.""You do me too much honor," Laverick declared, seating himself and taking up the carte.
"Then, too," she continued, "I sup alone with you. That is what Iseldom do with any man. Not that I care for the appearance," she added, with a contemptuous wave of the hand. "Nothing troubles me less. It is simply that one man alone wearies me. Almost always he will make love, and that I do not like. You, Mr. Laverick, I am not afraid of. I do not think that you will make love to me.""Any intentions I may have had," Laverick remarked, with a sigh, "Iforthwith banish. You ask a hard task of your cavaliers, though, Mademoiselle."She smiled and looked at him from under her eyelids.
"Not of you, I fancy, Mr. Laverick," she said. "I do not think that you are one of those who make love to every woman because she is good-looking or famous.""To tell you the truth," Laverick admitted, "I find it hard to make love to any one. I often feel the most profound admiration for individual members of your sex, but to express one's self is difficult - sometimes it is even embarrassing. For supper?""It is ordered," she declared. "You are my guest.""Impossible!" Laverick asserted firmly. "I have been your guest at the Opera. You at least owe me the honor of being mine for supper."She frowned a little. She was obviously unused to being contradicted.
"I sup with you, then, another night," she insisted. "No," she continued, "If you are going to look like that, I take it back. Isup with you to-night. This is an ill omen for our future acquaintance. I have given in to you already - I, who give in to no man. Give me some champagne, please."Laverick took the bottle from the ice-pail by his side, but the sommelier darted forward and served them.
"I drink to our better understanding of one another, Mr. Laverick,"she said, raising her glass, "and, if you would like a double toast, I drink also to the early gratification of the curiosity which is consuming you.""The curiosity? ""Yes! You are wondering all the time why it is that I chose last night to send and have you presented to me, why I came to your office in the city to-day with the excuse of investing money with you, why I invited you to the Opera to-night, why I commanded you to supper here and am supping with you alone. Now confess the truth; you are full of curiosity, is it not so?""Frankly, I am."She smiled good-humoredly.
"I knew it quite well. You are not conceited. You do not believe, as so many men would, that I have fallen in love with you. You think that there must be some object, and you ask yourself all the time, 'What is it?' in your heart, Mr. Laverick, I wonder whether you have any idea."Her voice had fallen almost to a whisper. She looked at him with a suggestion of stealthiness from under her eyelids, a look which only needed the slightest softening of her face to have made it something almost irresistible.
"I can assure you," Laverick said firmly, "that I have no idea.""Do you remember almost my first question to you?" she asked.
"It was about the murder. You seemed interested in the fact that my office was within a few yards of the passage where it occurred.""Quite right," she admitted. "I see that your memory is very good.
There, then, Mr. Laverick, you have the secret of my desire to meet you."Laverick drank his wine slowly. The woman knew! Impossible! Her eyes were watching his face, but he held himself bravely. What could she know? How could she guess?
"Frankly," he said, "I do not understand. Your interest in me arises from the fact that my offices are near the scene of that murder. Well, to begin with, what concern have you in that?""The murdered man," she declared thoughtfully, "was an acquaintance of mine.""An acquaintance of yours!" Laverick exclaimed. "Why, he has not been identified. No one knows who he was."She raised her eyebrows very slightly.
"Mr. Laverick," she murmured, "the newspapers do not tell you everything. I repeat that the murdered man was an acquaintance of mine. Only three days ago I traveled part of the way from Vienna with him."Laverick was intensely interested.
"You could, perhaps, throw some light, then, upon his death?""Perhaps I could," she answered. "I can tell you one thing, at any rate, Mr. Laverick, if it is news to you. At the time when he was murdered, he was carrying a very large sum of money with him. This is a fact which has not been spoken of in the Press."Once again Laverick was thankful for those nerves of his. He sat quite still. His face exhibited nothing more than the blank amazement which he certainly felt.
"This is marvelous," he said. "Have you told the police?""I have not," she answered. "I wish, if I can, to avoid telling the police.""But the money? To whom did it belong?""Not to the murdered man."
"To any one whom you know of?" he inquired.
"I wonder," she said, after a moment of hesitation, "whether I am telling you too much.""You are telling me a good deal," he admitted frankly.
