She was peeping into the Rue d'Hollande, to find out what was happening there.
"She will come back in a moment or two," I said to myself wearily, and sat waiting.

For a little while she stood with her long dress gathered up under her cloak: then she darted round the corner and vanished.

If she had not appeared again almost at once, I should have had to tell the driver to follow, though I hated the thought of going again into the street where Maxine de Renzie lived.

But she did come, and in her hand was a pretty little brocade bag embroidered with gold or silver that sparkled even in the faint light.
"I saw this lying in the street, and ran to pick it up," she exclaimed.
"You might better have left it," I said stiffly.

"Perhaps Mademoiselle de Renzie dropped it." "No, I don't think so.