"Then it has been arranged!" she exclaimed quickly. "Louis is, after
all, monsieur's friend. He has perhaps seen--"

"We will not talk of these things," I begged. "I would rather--"

She started, and drew a little away, glancing nervously toward the
door.

"I am terrified," she said. "Monsieur must come to my apartments one
afternoon, where we can talk without fear. There is one more question,
though," she continued rapidly. "Louis looked often at us. Tell me,
did he say anything to you about Monsieur Bartot and myself?"

"Nothing," I answered, "except that Monsieur Bartot held a somewhat
unique position in a certain corner of Paris, and that he was a person
whom it was not well to offend."

"No more?" she asked.

"No more," I answered.

"I saw him point us out to you," she remarked.

"I asked him to show me the most beautiful woman in the room," I
answered.

She shook her head.

"You are too much of a courtier for an Englishman," she said. "You do