"Was it then that you met her?" I inquired in an idle sort of way.

"Yes. I was in the confidence of Bardelys, and one night after we
had supped at his hotel - one of those suppers graced by every wit
in Paris - he asked me if I were minded to accompany him to the
Louvre. We went. A masque was in progress."

"Ah," said I, after the manner of one who suddenly takes in the
entire situation; "and it was at this masque that you met the
Duchesse?"

"You have guessed it. Ah, monsieur, if I were to tell you of the
things that I witnessed that night, they would amaze you," said he,
with a great air and a casual glance at Mademoiselle to see into
what depth of wonder these glimpses into his wicked past were
plunging her.

"I doubt it not," said I, thinking that if his imagination were as
fertile in that connection as it had been in mine he was likely,
indeed, to have some amazing things to tell. "But do I understand
you to say that that was the time of the scandal you have touched
upon?"

"The scandal burst three days after that masque. It came as a
surprise to most people. As for me - from what Bardelys had told
me - I expected nothing less."

"Pardon, Chevalier, but how old do you happen to be?"