Somerset maughan

petit bleu
sent off from the Gare du 
Nord, and ran as follows: 
When you receive this I shall be on my way to London. I was 
married to Oliver Haddo this morning. I love him as I never loved 
Arthur. I have acted in this manner because I thought I had gone too 
far with Arthur to make an explanation possible. Please tell him. 
MARGARET 
Susie was filled with dismay. She did not know what to do nor what 
to think. There was a knock at the door, and she knew it must be 
Arthur, for he was expected at midday. She decided quickly that it 
was impossible to break the news to him then and there. It was 
needful first to find out all manner of things, and besides, it was 
incredible. Making up her mind, she opened the door. 
'Oh, I'm so sorry Margaret isn't here,' she said. 'A friend of hers is ill 
and sent for her suddenly.' 
'What a bore!' answered Arthur. 'Mrs Bloomfield as usual, I 
suppose?' 
'Oh, you know she's been ill?' 
'Margaret has spent nearly every afternoon with her for some days.' 
Susie did not answer. This was the first she had heard of Mrs 
Bloomfield's illness, and it was news that Margaret was in the habit 
of visiting her. But her chief object at this moment was to get rid of 
Arthur. 
'Won't you come back at five o'clock?' she said. 
'But, look here, why shouldn't we lunch together, you and I?' 
'I'm very sorry, but I'm expecting somebody in.' 
'Oh, all right. Then I'll come back at five.' 

---

He nodded and went out. Susie read the brief note once more, and 
asked herself if it could possibly be true. The callousness of it was 
appalling. She went to Margaret's room and saw that everything 
was in its place. It did not look as if the owner had gone on a 
journey. But then she noticed that a number of letters had been 
destroyed. She opened a drawer and found that Margaret's trinkets 
were gone. An idea struck her. Margaret had bought lately a 
number of clothes, and these she had insisted should be sent to her 
dressmaker, saying that it was needless to cumber their little 
apartment with them. They could stay there till she returned to 
England a few weeks later for her marriage, and it would be simpler 
to despatch them all from one place. Susie went out. At the door it 
occurred to her to ask the 
concierge
if she knew where Margaret had 
gone that morning. 
'
Parfaitement, Mademoiselle
,' answered the old woman. 'I heard her 
tell the coachman to go to the British Consulate.' 
The last doubt was leaving Susie. She went to the dressmaker and 
there discovered that by Margaret's order the boxes containing her 
things had gone on the previous day to the luggage office of the 
Gare du Nord. 
'I hope you didn't let them go till your bill was paid,' said Susie 
lightly, as though in jest. 
The dressmaker laughed. 
'Mademoiselle paid for everything two or three days ago.' 
With indignation, Susie realised that Margaret had not only taken 
away the trousseau bought for her marriage with Arthur; but, since 
she was herself penniless, had paid for it with the money which he 
had generously given her. Susie drove then to Mrs Bloomfield, who 
at once reproached her for not coming to see her. 
'I'm sorry, but I've been exceedingly busy, and I knew that Margaret 
was looking after you.' 
'I've not seen Margaret for three weeks,' said the invalid. 
'Haven't you? I thought she dropped in quite often.' 

---

Susie spoke as though the matter were of no importance. She asked 
herself now where Margaret could have spent those afternoons. By a 
great effort she forced herself to speak of casual things with the 
garrulous old lady long enough to make her visit seem natural. On 
leaving her, she went to the Consulate, and her last doubt was 
dissipated. Then nothing remained but to go home and wait for 
Arthur. Her first impulse had been to see Dr Porhoët and ask for his 
advice; but, even if he offered to come back with her to the studio, 
his presence would be useless. She must see Arthur by himself. Her 
heart was wrung as she thought of the man's agony when he knew 
the truth. She had confessed to herself long before that she loved 
him passionately, and it seemed intolerable that she of all persons 
must bear him this great blow. 
She sat in the studio, counting the minutes, and thought with a 
bitter smile that his eagerness to see Margaret would make him 
punctual. She had eaten nothing since the