mind, it's over now. You had better lie down and rest. I will tell one of the servants to bring you up a glass of wine."
He walked with her to the door of her room, and said: "Try to sleep—sleep away the unpleasant memory."
She went into her room, and the Duke went downstairs and told the butler to take a glass of champagne up to her. Then he went upstairs to the drawing-room. M. Formery was at the table writing. Guerchard stood beside him. He handed what he had written to Guerchard, and, with a smile of satisfaction, Guerchard folded the paper and put it in his pocket.
"Well, M. Formery, did Mademoiselle Kritchnoff throw any fresh light on this mystery?" said the Duke, in a tone of faint contempt.
"No—in fact she convinced me that she knew nothing whatever about it. M. Guerchard seems to entertain a different opinion. But I think that even he is convinced that Mademoiselle Kritehnoff is not a friend of Arsène Lupin."
"Oh, well, perhaps she isn't. But there's no telling," said Guerchard slowly.
"Arsène Lupin?" cried the Duke. "Surely you never thought that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff had anything to do with Arsène Lupin?"
