Marcel accompanied Grace home and made certain she was being cared for, then made the solemn Cab ride to his estate, released the driver, and paid him generously for his service.
Claudette was waiting up for him and very concerned about his demeanor. “You are so late, Marcel. Your clothes are all disheveled. What happened to you?”
“Not to me, Claudette. A tragedy has befallen a dear friend.”
Claudette studied Marcel’s face. She had never seen him as crestfallen, and a hot rush of fear pulsed through her. “What has happened, Marcel,” she asked softly. “What friend of ours…”
“It is Grace,” he answered and let himself fall into a chair, fatigued and despondent.
“Grace Moreau? Is she…?” Claudette dare not finish the question, for she did not want her brother to know how she relished the p
