"
The mention of the certificates brought back all the
Englishman's discomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as
a lover of good wine should. Soon they rose from the table. The
maid ran to the door and held it open. Fitzgerald hurried
through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He put his hand under
the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blue eyes.
Fitzgerald turned.
"What was that noise?" he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along
the hall.
"What noise?"
Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was
announced at eight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty,
the possessor of a beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The
Colonel did the honors at the table. Maurice almost fancied
himself in Vienna, the setting of the dining room was so perfect.
The entire room was paneled in walnut. On the mantel over the
great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with wax tapers. The
candlestick in the center of the table was composed of twelve
branches. The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious.
Madame and the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was
brimming with anecdote, the countess was witty, Madame was a
sister to Aspasia.
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