And after that, Madame would dance but she would not talk. So we all went back to our rooms in the Hotel de l'Univers more than a little puzzled.
Things began to shape themselves on the following day, when Monsieur Huber handed me another typewritten communication. My instructions were concise but a trifle embarrassing:
Cultivate Madame Sara Clèry. She is at home from five to seven. At all hazards be there on Thursday. Leave report of visit with Monsieur Huber, addressed Thomson.
Rose made a little grimace as she read over my shoulder.
"Perhaps," she exclaimed, with her head in the air, "you won't have so much to say about poor Mr. Kinlosti now."
"This isn't of my seeking, is it?" I protested.
"Nor was L'Affaire Kinlosti mine," she retorted. "There was a wonderful little Belgian Count, with moustaches half an inch long, the other night. I shall let him call upon me."
"I shall leave you in Leonard's charge," I replied stiffly.
"Dear old Len!" she mocked. "He won't have an earthly chance if I take it into my head to be frisky, and I'm sure I shall. It isn't natural for a girl to see no men except two ogres of guardians."
"You be thankful you've got us to look after you," Leonard intervened. "From what I've seen of this city, Sodom and Gomorrah weren't in it for levity."