She pretended to be annoyed with circumstances, but really she
was annoyed with Nella Racksole. At two in the morning, without
luggage, without any companionship, and without a plan of
campaign, she found herself in a strange foreign port - a port of
evil repute, possessing some of the worst-managed hotels in
Europe. She strolled on the quay for a few minutes, and then she
saw the smoke of another steamer in the offing. She inquired from
an official what that steamer might be, and was told that it was the
eight o'clock from Dover, which had broken down, put into Calais
for some slight necessary repairs, and was arriving at its
destination nearly four hours late. Her mercurial spirits rose again.
A minute ago she was regarding herself as no better than a ninny
engaged in a wild-goose chase. Now she felt that after all she had
been very sagacious and cunning. She was morally sure that she
would find the Zerlinski woman on this second steamer, and she
took all the credit to herself in advance. Such is human nature.
The steamer seemed interminably slow in coming into harbour.
Nella walked on the Digue for a few minutes to watch it the better.
The town was silent and almost deserted. It had a false and sinister
aspect. She remembered tales which she had heard of this
glittering resort, which in the season holds more scoundrels than
any place in Europe, save only Monte Carlo.
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