"
"When you like. Vladimir, do you remember the girl Monsieur Poleski
brought on board once for a few days. I never knew her real name. She
always looked so ill and miserable. Do you remember?"
"It is about this very girl that he has written."
Pauline looked up quickly. "She is dead?"
"No! No! I suppose you think that because she always looked such a
tragedy. However, she is very ill, out of danger now, but of course
not able to ride--she was in the Hippodrome, you know--and apparently
she has no money, so one must do something for them. Poleski has
barely enough for two, especially under these circumstances."
"I am sorry," Pauline said gently. "I remember how she used to sit all
day and look at the sea. Monsieur Poleski left her too much alone, and
always spoke so roughly, but I think he loved her."
Vladimir gave a short laugh.
"You're wrong there, child. No, I'm sure that's not the case with
Poleski."
"But she loves him?"
"Possibly! She always seemed to me uncanny with those extraordinary
eyes, and that voice.
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