The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-09-13
CHAPTER xxvII.

| My Discovery in Dean Street. You know what dingy. sunless thoroughfare Is Dean street. Soho. Within the small front shop. behind & mud-slashed window. clean linen shirts and collars-was hanging upon lines while at table several dark
 haired women. evidently foreigners, their sleeves rolled up. were ironing
 away for dear life. laughing and chat tering the while.
 A stout, gray-haired French woman,
 with white apron. was engaged in checking a laundry list as l entered and made inquiry for madame.
 "I am Mme Perrin. rn'sieur." replied
 the woman in rather musical French. as she straightened herself and turned toward me.
 live called to request favor of you, madame I said, lowering my voice confidentially and raising my hat as I spoke. "The fact is. IT." My words froze upon my lips. l |stood staring as though I had en- the glass door which led to the parlor behind the shop opened and there ap- peared in the doorway dark-eyed young woman in white apron and with sleeves rolled up, one of madame's s
 ironers.
 "You-mademoiseller I gasped. step ping quickly toward her. "I-I-
 But with look of quick apprehen- sion ubon her face she stepped back with a cry of alarm. My attitude had frightened her. She believed, no doubt.
 that I had taken leave of my senses,
 while her workers glanced at
 me in sheer amazement. The young woman did not. of course.
 recognize me. To her knowledge she
 had never set eyes upon me. But I had recognized her. Though dressed in plain black. with a white apron and her hair plainly arranged, no second glance was needed to tell me that she was the woman who had called in a cab at the Cecil for Ralph Garshore-the woman who had been pointed out to me by Granny as Lydia Popescui
 How I managed to control myself in the few seconds that followed I can not tell. I, however. became conscious that only by playing a cunning game | could I learn the truth. This unex-
 pected discovery had complicated mat
 ters still further, yet fortunately I was
 able to make pretense that I had mis- 1 taken mademoiselle for a lost friend, and. of course. became profuse in my apologies, to madame. to mademoiselle l and to her companions.
 "I. fear" exclaimed in French
 ''that I've made myself somewhat ridi- c1lous. mademoiselle! I am English so forgive mel" I laughed
 I And the dozen or so ironers all | laughed in chorus.
 ''Mademoiselle Melanie is always | having English admirers declared l madame. with bristling. business | like air.
 | Hooked across at the woman of mys- l tery and. with a pleasant smile. said Mademoiselle resembles an old friend of mine. I know she works at
 laundry somewhere in London-but l London is a big place in which to
 search."
 we have never met before,'' laugh ed the young woman known there as l Melanie, apparently unsuspicious now,
 though at first I saw by her counten-
 ance that she had been startled. be- | lieving me to be an agent of police. l My course was to appear regretful
 at creating such surprise. Therefore
 treating the whole incident humorous
 ly, but still watching the womans de-
 meanor. I remained few minutes
 chatting with madame and her bevy ] of laughing workgirls. and then polite