Bayne--"
"Yes," I broke in hastily; "I should like to see them boil in oil or fry
on gridirons or something of the sort, myself. But this is very serious;
we must keep calm, Miss Falconer. And I know you are going to help me.
You have such splendid self-control."
Though there were sobs in her throat, she pressed her hands to her lips
and stifled them. Only her pallor and her wet lashes showed the horror
and grief she felt. I wanted desperately to comfort her, but there
was no time for it; and besides, who ever heard of a leather-coated
comforter in a kitchen garden at 5 A.M.?
"What I wanted to speak about," I went on rapidly, "was our plans. This
may prove a rather nasty mess, I'm sorry to say. The French police, you
know, are--well, they're capable and very thorough; and since you are
here at the scene of a murder in an _infirmiere's_ costume, they will
never rest till they have seen your papers, learned your errand, asked
you a hundred things. Unless your replies are absolutely satisfactory,
the whole business will be--er--awkward for you.
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