“Ah, yes. Important, oui,” she nodded. “Vy ’e come see my ’usban’? Do you know? I not know; my ’usban’, ’e not know, eizer.”
“He didn’t see your husband, then?”
“No; Argot, he not in.”
“Well, I think Mr. Merritt is looking for a hat containing the initials, A. B., and he wanted to ask your husband if he had found it, by any chance.”
She started up quite regardless of her wound.
“Ah, par example, oui! Yes, indeed,” she exclaimed, vehemently.
“Your husband has found such a hat?”
“Yes, yes; I tell you. ’e make une scenes about zat ’at!” she burst out, angrily.
“But why?” I asked. “Why should he make a scene about it?”
“Ah!” she said, tossing her head coquettishly, though real annoyance still lingered in her voice, “’e say it is ze ’at of my lover!”