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 "Señora," he began, in a low voice.

What is it, Don Martin?" asked Mrs. Gould. And then she added, with a slight laugh, "I am so nervous to-day," as if to explain the eagerness of the question.

"Nothing immediately dangerous," said Decoud, who now could not conceal his agitation. "Pray don't distress yourself. No, really, you must not distress yourself."

Mrs. Gould, with her candid eyes very wide open, her lips composed into a smile, was steadying herself with a little bejewelled hand against the lintel of the door.

"Perhaps you don't know how alarming you are, appearing like this, unexpectedly—"

"I! Alarming!" he protested, sincerely vexed and surprised. "I assure you that I am not in the least alarmed myself. A fan is lost; well, it will be found again. But I don't think it is here. It is a fan I am looking for. I cannot understand how Antonia could Well! have you found it, amigo?"

"No, señor," said, behind Mrs. Gould, the soft voice of Basilio, the head servant of the casa. "I don't think the señorita could have left it in this house at all."

"Go and look for it in the patio again. Go now, my friend; look for it on the steps, under the gate; examine every flag-stone; search for it till I comedown again. . . . That fellow" he addressed himself in English to Mrs. Gould "is always stealing up behind one's back on his bare feet. I set him to look for that fan directly I came in, to justify my reappearance, my sudden return."