I suppose she was certain of my readiness, since
her first thought was to come to me. But the service she meant to ask of
me really was to accompany her to the Chateau Borel.
I had an unpleasant mental vision of the dark road, of the sombre
grounds, and the desolately suspicious aspect of that home of necromancy
and intrigue and feminist adoration. I objected that Madame de S-- most
likely would know nothing of what we wanted to find out. Neither did I
think it likely that the young man would be found there. I remembered
my glimpse of his face, and somehow gained the conviction that a man who
looked worse than if he had seen the dead would want to shut himself up
somewhere where he could be alone. I felt a strange certitude that Mr.
Razumov was going home when I saw him.
"It is really of Peter Ivanovitch that I was thinking," said Miss Haldin
quietly.
Ah! He, of course, would know. I looked at my watch. It was twenty
minutes past nine only.... Still.
"I would try his hotel, then," I advised. "He has rooms at the
Cosmopolitan, somewhere on the top floor."
I did not offer to go by myself, simply from mistrust of the reception I
should meet with. But I suggested the faithful Anna, with a note asking
for the information.
Anna was still waiting by the door at the other end of the room, and we
two discussed the matter in whispers.
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