Ah, and when they do, will one of them go into my bedroom
with my letters?"
She tried to pick out in her mind that one most friendly to her, that
one who was to destroy her. She heard in spirit her cry: "Fanny
_isn't there!_"
She thought of Stewart who would have woken early, planning anxiously to
save her. The faces of the Guardians of the Honour of the Section began
to visit her one by one, and horror spread in her. Then, pushing them
from her, attempting to escape: "They are not all the world--" But they
_were_ all the world--if in a strange land they were all to frown
together. The thought was horrible. Time to get there yet! Alas, that
the car was not facing _towards_ Chantilly--so early in the morning!
"Foss, Foss, don't you see him coming?"
"The road is full of people."
A car rushed by them, yet never seemed to pass. The engine slowed down
and a voice called: "What's up? Anything you want?"
It was the voice of Roland Vauclin. Ah, she knew him--that fat, childish
man, who loved gossip as he loved his food. To Fanny it seemed but a
question of seconds before he would lift the rug, say gravely, "Good
morning, mademoiselle," before he would rush back to his village
spreading the news like a fall of fresh snow over the roofs. She lay
still from sheer inertia. Had Foss answered? She could not hear.
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