“That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. “You’re so unbelievably beautiful, Lucy. Listen, you. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. The investigators should have thought to check inside the garbage can. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. ‘Certainly no one will find it.
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