Місяць і гріш

Chapter XXIV

           

           "He’sill,"hesaid."Didn’tyouknow?"

           "Seriously?"

           "Very,Iunderstand."

           Stroeve’sfacegrewwhite.

           "Whydidn’thewriteandtellme?Howstupidofmetoquarrelwithhim.Wemustgotohimatonce.Hecanhavenoonetolookafterhim.Wheredoeshelive?"

           "Ihavenoidea,"saidtheFrenchman.

           Wediscoveredthatnoneofusknewhowtofindhim.Stroevegrewmoreandmoredistressed.

           "Hemightdie,andnotasoulwouldknowanythingaboutit.It’sdreadful.Ican’tbearthethought.Wemustfindhimatonce."

           ItriedtomakeStroeveunderstandthatitwasabsurdtohuntvaguelyaboutParis.Wemustfirstthinkofsomeplan.

           "Yes;butallthistimehemaybedying,andwhenwegetthereitmaybetoolatetodoanything."

           "Sitstillandletusthink,"Isaidimpatiently.

           TheonlyaddressIknewwastheHoteldesBelges,butStricklandhadlongleftthat,andtheywouldhavenorecollectionofhim.Withthatqueerideaofhistokeephiswhereaboutssecret,itwasunlikelythat,onleaving,hehadsaidwherehewasgoing.Besides,itwasmorethanfiveyearsago.Ifeltprettysurethathehadnotmovedfar.Ifhecontinuedtofrequentthesamecafeaswhenhehadstayedatthehotel,itwasprobablybecauseitwasthemostconvenient.SuddenlyIrememberedthathehadgothiscommissiontopaintaportraitthroughthebakerfromwhomheboughthisbread,anditstruckmethatthereonemightfindhisaddress.Icalledforadirectoryandlookedoutthebakers.Therewerefiveintheimmediateneighbourhood,andtheonlythingwastogotoallofthem.Stroeveaccompaniedmeunwillingly.

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