"Your niece is dying!"
"My niece! But I have no niece; you are mistaken."
"Oh, Sir! I implore you, lay aside all foolish family rancour. I am
speaking of Madame Deloche, the wife of Captain----"
"I do not know Madame Deloche. You are mistaken, my son, I assure you."
And he gently pushed me toward the door, taking me for a hoaxer or
a madman. I must in fact have appeared very odd. What I heard was so
unexpected, so terrible. She had lied to me then. Wherefore?
Suddenly an idea flashed across me. I directed the cabman to drive me
to the address of one of those pupils of whom she had so often spoken to
me, the daughter of a well-known banker.