“Yes, dead,” said the proprietor, “as dead as all the rest of her lovers!”
“The devil!” said the man.
“Quite so!” said the proprietor.
“And the name of this woman,” said the man, “what is it?”
“She calls herself Elise Du Barry,” said the proprietor, “but other people call her something else.”
“What do they call her?” said the man.
“‘Our Lady of Red Lips’!” said the proprietor.
The man thanked the proprietor, and left the shop.
In the street he stopped before the window once more, and stood and stared at the picture.
“‘Our Lady of Red Lips’,” muttered the man.