"What you call it I do not know," she said. "He is just one of those ordinary people who go about to collect little items of information for your Government. That is why I have received from him four pounds of chocolate, at least a sovereign's worth of roses, four stalls for the theatre—which I do believe that he had given to him because they were for plays that no one goes to see, and to-night a dinner—such a dinner, messieurs, with chianti that burned my tongue!"
"This," Kendricks declared, "is quite a bright young lady!
Mademoiselle, I trust that we shall become better acquainted."
"And in the meantime," Julien inquired, "what are these wonderful items of information which you carry with you, and which this unfortunate young man fails so utterly to elicit?"
"Ah! well," she sighed, "I am by profession a manicurist, but some freak of nature gave me the power of keeping my mouth closed, of looking as though I knew a good deal, but of saying so little. Now, messieurs, what could a poor girl know in the way of secrets for which that young man would get credit if he had succeeded in eliciting them? What could I know, indeed? I sit on my little stool and sometimes there are great people who give me their hands, and they are thoughtful. And sometimes I ask questions and they answer me absently, because, after all, what does it matter?—a manicurist from the shop downstairs, earning her thirty shillings a week, and anxious to be agreeable for the sake of her tip! And then sometimes while I am there they dictate letters, or a caller comes, or the telephone rings. One does not think of the manicure girl at such a time. Fortunately, there are some like me who know so well how to keep silent, to say nothing, to be dumb."
"The methods of that young man," Kendricks asserted, "were crude. Now, young lady, consider my position. I represent a power greater than the power of Governments. I represent a Press which is greedy for personal news. Have you trimmed lately the nails of a duchess? If so, tell me what she wore, her favorite oath, any trifling expression likely to be of interest to the British public! And instead of roses I will send you carnations; instead of dead-head tickets I will take you myself to the Gaiety; instead of a dinner at the Café l'Athénée, I will take you to supper at the Milan."
"Your friend," mademoiselle declared, smiling at Julien, "is quite an intelligent person. I like him very much. But I wish he would not smoke that pipe and I should like to buy him a necktie."
"Julien," Kendricks sighed, "the Bohemian has no chance against such a model as you."
"I do not think," she remarked, looking Julien in the eyes, "that Sir
Julien Portel cares very much for women—just now, at any rate."
Julien frowned. He absolutely declined to answer the challenge in her dark eyes.
"Mademoiselle," he said, "when I present myself to this Madame
Christophor, do I deliver any message from you? Do I explain my visit?"