Aksakoff clasped and unclasped two restless hands over the knob of his cane. "I really cannot say. I do not know why you should make that observation, after I have informed you of my daughter's whereabouts."
"I make it because I am a woman, and being such, I know that Katinka's love for that waxed-moustache creature will lead her--perhaps has led her--even into Siberian wilds."
Aksakoff stopped under the Achilles Statue and probed her mind with his eyes. "Do you really think so?"
"I do. Does my thought confirm facts?"
He resumed his walk with a troubled face. "I will be frank with you, madame, since we both know that Constantine Demetrius left Paris on that afternoon en route to Siberia."
"I know nothing of the sort," contradicted Leah, sharply.
"Yet you have just admitted that the man is in Siberia."
The Duchess laughed carelessly. "All Russians go as naturally to Siberia as cockneys to Margate. It's a kind of Bank Holiday with them, I suppose. Why not be frank with me?"
"Madame, I rather think that I should ask you that question." "I never answer questions," said Leah, coolly; "it saves a lot of trouble. But I make statements, and one is that Demetrius and the woman who loves him are in Siberia."
"Do you really think so?" said the diplomatist, repeating himself.