“Do you make war on women?”
“No—I make love to them.”
“To many, I dare say. But here is one who won’t listen.”
“At least you will listen while I go on with the news I came to tell?”
“Oh, yes, I confess to being curious. No doubt what you say will be interesting—even if not accurate.”
“I can promise that it shall be both. I called on Lenormand as soon as I learned what had happened—that he’d been mixed up in this case—and expressed myself as extremely concerned for the fate of his client, friends of whom were intimate friends of mine. So you see, there was no question of treachery on Lenormand’s part. He trusts me—as you do not. Indeed, I even offered my help for Dundas, if I could give it consistently with my position. Naturally, he told me nothing which could be used against Dundas, so far as he knew, even if I wished to go against him—which my coming here ought to prove to you that I do not.”
“I read the proof rather differently,” I said. “But go on. I’m sure you are anxious to tell me certain things. Please come to the point.”
“In a few words, then, the point is this: One of the most important questions put by the Juge d’Instruction, after hearing from Mr. Dundas the explanation of a document found on him by the police—ah, that wakes you up, Mademoiselle! You are surprised that a document was found on the prisoner?”
I was half fainting with fear lest Ivor had regained the treaty, only to lose it again in this dreadful way; but I controlled myself.
“I rather hope it was not a letter from me,” I said. “You know so much, that you probably know I admitted to the police at the Élysée Palace a strong friendship for Mr. Dundas. We knew each other well in London. But London ways are different from the ways of Paris. It isn’t agreeable to be gossipped about, however unjustly, even if one is—only an actress.”