Paul looked up and laughed.
“For instance?”
“Yes, it is rather difficult. To begin with, we might go to the Villa Iris.”
“That bouge?”
“And we might dance with Marguerite Lambert, the American?”
Paul stared.
“And who the devil is Marguerite Lambert?” he asked. Could any good thing come out of the Villa Iris?
“It is high time you knew her,” said Gerard de Montignac decidedly.
“What is she like?”
“I haven’t seen her, either. But the little Praslin says she’s a dream, and the little Boutreau, the little Boutreau of the Legion cannot sleep at night for thinking of her. It is high time, Paul, that we both made her acquaintance.”