Sellingworth's.

"I shall persist until I get you over to Paris," she said. "I do want
you to see my apartment, and my bronzes--particularly my bronzes. When
were you last in Paris?"

"Passing through or staying--do you mean?"

"Staying."

Lady Sellingworth was silent for an instant, and Craven saw the half
sad, half mocking expression in her eyes.

"I haven't stayed in Paris for ten years," she said.

She glanced at Sir Seymour, who slightly bent his curly head as if in
assent.

"It's almost incredible, isn't it, Mr. Craven?" said Miss Van Tuyn. "So
unlike the man who expressed a wish to be buried in Paris."

Craven remembered at that moment Braybrooke's remark in the club that
Lady Sellingworth's jewelry were stolen in Paris at the Gare du Nord ten
years ago. Did Miss Van Tuyn know about that? He wondered as he murmured
something non-committal.

Miss Van Tuyn now tried to extract a word of honour promise from Lady
Sellingworth to visit her in Paris, where, it seemed, she lived very
independently with a _dame de compagnie_, who was always in one room
with a cold reading the novels of Paul Bourget. ("Bourget keeps on