The Craze of Christina — page 172: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

168 The Craze of Christina. of the Hotel de l’Horloge drew up at the front door. There were several people inside, and a mountain of luggage at the top. Chris did not dare to show herself, or to look for the particu- lar traveler she expected. She could see, how- ever, that there was a crowd around the bureau, and she heard the voices of the people as they inquired for rooms, and the ringing of bells for the chambermaid and the garc¢on. At last, however, she heard a familiar voice in an unfamiliar language, a language that caused her to stifle a strong desire to laugh aloud, since it was the most atrociously Eng- lish-French both as regards accent and idiom she had ever had the privilege of listening to. ‘*Est-ce-quer, Madermoisel Pratt, est ici?”’ The lady in the bureau, who had been specially and carefully primed with her answer, in case this question were asked of her, replied quite cheerfully: ‘‘Non, m’sieur, Mam’selle Pratt est partie.” “Nong! vous ne dites pas!’’—in an accent of horror and dismay. ‘*Si, m’sieur, elle est partie ce matin méme.”’ ‘*Oi—ot?’’ seemed to be gasped forth from a hoarse and trembling throat. A pause. ‘‘Ah, mais il y avait une lettre!’’ said madame. ‘‘Alphonse, mon ami, ot est la (E(0)/ AA) (26) (0\(0) KS (E(0)