She started at the word. "What? The billiard player?" she cried.
He nodded. "Did you know him?"
"Oh, yes, very well."
Now it was Coquenil's turn to feel surprise, for he had asked the question almost aimlessly.
"You knew Martinez very well?" he repeated, scarcely believing his ears.
"I often saw him," she explained, "at the café where we went evenings."
"Who were 'we'?"
"Why, Papa Bonneton would take me, or my cousin, M. Groener, or M. Kittredge."
"Then M. Kittredge knew Martinez?"
"Of course. He used to go sometimes to see him play billiards." She said all this quite simply.