"Did you know that extraordinary man?"

"To know him personally one had to be either very distinguished or
very lucky. Mr. Mills here . . ."

"Yes, I have been lucky," Mills struck in. "It was my cousin who
was distinguished. That's how I managed to enter his house in
Paris--it was called the Pavilion--twice."

"And saw Dona Rita twice, too?" asked Blunt with an indefinite
smile and a marked emphasis. Mills was also emphatic in his reply
but with a serious face.

"I am not an easy enthusiast where women are concerned, but she was
without doubt the most admirable find of his amongst all the
priceless items he had accumulated in that house--the most
admirable. . . "

"Ah! But, you see, of all the objects there she was the only one
that was alive," pointed out Blunt with the slightest possible
flavour of sarcasm.

"Immensely so," affirmed Mills. "Not because she was restless,
indeed she hardly ever moved from that couch between the windows--
you know."

"No. I don't know. I've never been in there," announced Blunt
with that flash of white teeth so strangely without any character
of its own that it was merely disturbing.