Suky Wood smiled.
“As for the lady,” she replied, “I did the same thing to find her out. It cost me, however, a great deal more time and a great deal more patience, because she took the very greatest precautions; and I lost more than one afternoon in watching her. But, the more she tried to hide, the more I was curious to know, as a matter of course. At last, one evening when she left the house in her carriage, I took a cab and followed her. I traced her thus to her house; and next morning I talked to the servants there, and they told me that she was a lady who lived in the province, but came every year to Paris to spend a month with her parents, and that her name was Countess Claudieuse.”
And Jacques had imagined and strongly maintained that Suky would not know any thing, in fact, could not know any thing!
“But did you ever see this lady?” asked M. Folgat.
“As well as I see you.”
“Would you recognize her?”
“Among thousands.”
“And if you saw her portrait?”
“I should know it at once.”
M. Folgat handed her the album.