I could only give myself up, and drift with circumstances.
"A man has just come round the far corner," whispered Lisa. "Is it Ivor?
I can't make out. He doesn't look our way."
"Thank Heaven we're too far off for him to see our faces! I would rather
die than have Ivor know we're here," I broke out.
"I don't think it is Ivor," Lisa went on. "He's hidden himself in the
shadow, as if he were watching. It's _that_ house he's interested in.
Who can he be, if not Ivor? A detective, perhaps."
"Why should a detective watch Mademoiselle de Renzie's house?" I asked,
in spite of myself.
Lisa seemed a little confused, as if she had said something she
regretted.
"I don't know, I'm sure," she answered hastily. "Why, indeed? It was
just a thought. The man seems so anxious not to be seen. Oh--keep back,
Di, don't look out for an instant, till he's passed. Ivor is coming now.
He's walking in a great hurry. There! he can't see you. He's far enough
away for you to peep, and see for yourself. He's at Maxine de Renzie's
gate."
It was all over, then, and no more hope. His eyes when they gave me that
tragic look had lied, even as his lips had lied last night, when he told
me there was no other woman in his world but me.
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