"You go with him every night to the restaurant in the Place d'Anjou?" I asked.
"I go there very often," she answered. "Monsieur, unless I am mistaken, is a stranger there."
I nodded.
"Last night," I told her, "I was there for the first time."
"You came," she said, toying with her empty liqueur-glass, "with Louis."
"That is so," I admitted.
"Louis brings no one there without a purpose," she remarked.
"You know Louis, then?" I asked.
She raised her eyebrows.
"All the world knows Louis," she continued. "A smoother-tongued rascal never breathed."