"You seem very well informed, milor."
"Almost as well as Madame herself," he riposted with a pleasant laugh.
"Then you do not believe my story?"
"Not one word of it!" he replied.
"Strange!" she mused. "For every word of it is true."
"Demmed strange!" he assented.
"Of course I did not tell all," she went on, with sudden vehemence. "I could not. My lady would not understand. She has become—what shall I say?—very English. Marguerite St. Just would understand . . . Lady Blakeney—no?"
"What would Lady Blakeney not understand!"
"Eh bien! About Bertrand Moncrif."
"Ah?"