I began to look frantically around for a note. There was none.
I went back to my room and pulled the bell-rope. The little maid appeared again.
I said firmly; ‘Find Jeanne. Let everyone look for her. Her bedroom is empty. Her clothes have gone.’
The maid stared at me open-mouthed.
‘We must find her,’ I said.
But we could not find Jeanne. She was not in the house, no one had seen her go out, yet everything she possessed had gone.
I had to dress. The party must go on, however disturbed I was.
I put away the brocade dress. I did not want to look into that empty jewel-case. There must be some explanation about the disappearance of my jewels. There was one solution, but I refused to believe it although the logical sequence was beginning to force itself into my mind.
I put on a gown of scarlet, rather flamboyant, but as Lance had assured me, in excellent taste… a dress which required no embellishment.
I was desperately uneasy. I was worried. I was frantic. I was fond of Jeanne—more fond than I had realized. I would not believe what, on the face of it, was the only logical answer.
Aimée came in while I was dressing. She was quivering with excitement; her eyes looked luminous and unnaturally large. There was a high colour in her cheeks.
‘Where is Jeanne?’ she asked. ‘I wanted to tell her… Isn’t she here?’
‘I can’t find her. I think she must have been called away.’
‘Called away! Who would call her away, and would she go without telling you?’
‘I can’t understand it, Aimée. I am very worried.’
‘Disappeared,’ murmured Aimée. ‘It can’t be. She was comfortable here. Why should she go away?’
I shook my head, and a sharp look came into Aimée’s eyes. ‘Is… is anything missing?’ she asked.
I was silent. I did not want to tell her about the jewellery. I should have to do so in time… but not yet. I kept telling myself that Jeanne would be back. There must be a simple explanation of her disappearance.
‘Because if there is…’ went on Aimée.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? She was always talking about a flower-shop in Paris. That was her great aim in life.’
‘You can’t think that Jeanne… Oh, it’s quite impossible. She has been with me so long! She looked after me in Paris
‘She always longed to be back there. That I know. That flower-shop in Paris was what she dreamed of. One of her own. It’s what she always wanted.’
‘As if she would go without telling me! I don’t believe she would ever have gone. She was so happy to have her home with us.’
‘She was by no means sentimental. Hard as nails, I’d say. That’s how they are brought up in the streets of Paris.
‘She was not hard. She was so good to me when I needed help.’
Aimée nodded. ‘Well, who knows? Perhaps she’ll come back. Has she taken some of her clothes with her?’
‘All,’ I said.
‘Oh dear. Then it really seems…’
Lance came in while we were talking.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked. ‘Everyone seems to be whispering together.’
I said: ‘Jeanne has disappeared.’
‘Disappeared? How? When?’
‘That’s what I’d like to know. She’s gone—that’s all.’
‘Jeanne! I can’t believe it.’
I nodded. ‘It seems to be true.’
‘I really think we ought to see if anything is missing,’ said Aimée.
‘I don’t believe Jeanne would ever take anything that did not belong to her,’ I began.
‘You wouldn’t believe she’d go off without saying a word,’ retorted Aimée. ‘I think you ought to look round and see what valuables are missing. Jewels, most likely, as they would be easy to carry.’
I felt myself trembling as Aimée went to my jewel-case on the dressing-table and opened it. She looked at me with wide-open eyes. ‘Did you have anything in it? It’s empty now.’
I said reluctantly: ‘I think my emeralds were in it… and the bezoar ring.’
‘No!’ She almost let the case fall from her hands as she stared from me to Lance.
‘You’ve put them somewhere else…’ she said breathlessly.
I shook my head.
‘Oh yes, you must have,’ cried Lance. ‘They’re somewhere in this room.’ He refused to accept the implication, as I did. He was silent for a few seconds then he burst out: ‘Gad, you don’t think that she
‘It appears so,’ said Aimée. ‘She seems to have walked out with your emeralds, Clarissa. Who would have believed it, and yet she was always talking about a flower-shop in Paris. What was it she used to say: “They’d buy a flower-shop in the heart of Paris.”’
‘That’s absurd,’ I said emphatically. ‘It really is quite ridiculous.’
‘I expect they’ll turn up,’ said Lance. ‘All of them… Jeanne and the jewels.’
‘They won’t,’ contradicted Aimée firmly. ‘I know her type. She’s typical of the back streets of Paris. Hard as nails and sharp as broken glass, that’s what they are… looking for chances and never missing them when they come. It would not surprise me if she were already on the boat, crossing to France. She’ll get her ambition… a flower-shop in the centre of Paris. It’s what she was always talking about.’
I shook my head miserably and Lance came to me and put an arm about me.
Nothing was done about Jeanne that night. I would not allow anyone to say that she had run away; I believed she would come back and that there was some explanation.
The party went on; the gambling took place. I was too upset to do anything but retire to my room.
I was still awake when Lance came up. For once I was not interested whether he had won or lost at the tables. My thoughts were all for Jeanne. I kept seeing her in her various moods; often sharp and astringent of tongue, trying to hide that innate sentimentality in her caustic comments, and at heart good and kind. I would never forget what she had saved me from when I was young and helpless.
And now to find that she was a thief…
I just would not believe that.
I talked about her to Lance, for I could not sleep and he, understanding how I felt, did not sleep either.
He said gently that there was only one explanation and we must accept it. Jeanne had decided to leave us. It was hard for people to live out of their native environment. Perhaps all those years she had been hankering for her native France. She had longed for a flower-shop of her own. She had seen the valuable jewellery and she had calculated what it would be worth. She had often mentioned it.
The temptation was too strong for her,’ said Lance. ‘Poor Jeanne, she could not resist it.’
Lance thought he understood. He knew a great deal about irresistible temptations.
The next day he sent men to Dover and Southampton to discover if there was any sign of Jeanne trying to escape to France. It was impossible to find any information about her.
But as the weeks began to pass, even I began to believe that there could be no other explanation. Every time Jeanne had picked up my jewellery—as she had been in the habit of doing since Lance had given me the emeralds—she had seen through it the flower-shop of her dreams.
It seemed that every way I looked at it this must be the case. The temptation had been too strong for her and she had left me to own a flower-shop in the heart of Paris.
Then I had never really known her. She could not be the woman I had always believed her to be.
It was a heartbreaking discovery. What had I known of Jeanne? What did I know of anybody?
DISCOVERY IN A SHOP WINDOW
IT WAS ONLY DURING the next weeks that I realized how very much Jeanne had meant to me. She had been the mother-figure in my early impressionable days and I could not forget her. In spite of all the evidence something within me refused to accept the fact that she had run away in order to steal my jewellery and buy a flower-shop. She had looked after me since I was more or less a baby with my parents in Paris and when ill-fortune had overtaken me she had cared for me. Then she had come to England to find me. Oh no, I would not believe that Jeanne was a common thief.