We were "on time," and the answer to my first
question was that the Lucerne express was still at the platform, but
on the point of departure.
I got one glimpse of Falfani and one word with him. He was in trouble
himself; they had nipped him, caught him tight, and thrown him off the
scent. I was now to take up the running.
"You've got your chance now, Ludovic," he said hurriedly, as he leaned
out of the carriage window. "I'm not jealous, as you often are, but
it's deuced hard on me. Anyhow, stick to her like wax, and keep your
eyes skinned. She's got the wiles of the devil, and will sell you like
a dog if you don't mind. Hurry now; you'll pick her up in the
waiting-room or restaurant, and can't miss her."
He gave me the description, and I left him, promising him a wire at
the telegraph office, Lucerne. He was right, there was no mistaking
her. Few people were about at that time in the morning, and there was
not a soul among the plain-headed, commonplace Swiss folk to compare
with her, an English lady with her belongings.
She was quite a beauty, tall, straight, lissom, in her tight-fitting
ulster; her piquante-looking heather cap perched on chestnut curls,
and setting off as handsome a face as I have ever seen.
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