“Eh?” exclaimed the old lady, evidently shocked at his audacity, “you are very inquisitive upon my word!”
“Excuse me, madame, but I am anxious to find the owner of this valuable ornament.”
Madame d’Arlange regarded her visitor with an air of mingled curiosity and surprise. “Such honesty!” said she. “Oh, oh! And of course you don’t hope for a sou by way of reward—”
“Madame!”
“Good, good! There is not the least need for you to turn as red as a poppy, young man. I sold these diamonds to a great Austrian lady—the Baroness de Watchau.”
“And where does this lady reside?”
“At the Pere la Chaise, probably, since she died about a year ago. Ah! these women of the present day—an extra waltz, or the merest draft, and it’s all over with them! In my time, after each gallop, we girls used to swallow a tumbler of sweetened wine, and sit down between two open doors. And we did very well, as you see.”
“But, madame,” insisted Lecoq, “the Baroness de Watchau must have left some one behind her—a husband, or children—”
“No one but a brother, who holds a court position at Vienna: and who could not leave even to attend the funeral. He sent orders that all his sister’s personal property should be sold—not even excepting her wardrobe—and the money sent to him.”
Lecoq could not repress an exclamation of disappointment. “How unfortunate!” he murmured.