The strange woman was peering into her face with a penetration which was uncanny. When she had finished her inspection and Audrey, irritated and perplexed, paused, the visitor laughed harshly.
“I see, I see. You are one of the victims! Now tell me, what are you doing here? What goes on here? Is it gambling, or——”
With the blood rushing to her cheeks Audrey rose up with a cry.
“Oh, how did you know?” she cried breathlessly.
The visitor said nothing for a moment, but stared at her in the same piercing way. Then she got up, went softly across the room to the door, opened it quickly, and looked out.
“What are you doing?” said Audrey.
“Eugène uses spies,” replied the visitor briefly, as she walked slowly round the room, apparently examining the furniture, the very walls, to see whether there was any possibility of their being overheard by unseen ears. Having satisfied herself, she came back to her seat. “And so,” she said bluntly, “this is a gambling-house, and you are the decoy?”
“How dare you call me that?” panted Audrey, more angry than she could express.
But the woman went steadily on: “You, with your pretty face and figure, your well-bred air and your handsome dresses, are the nominal head of this house, I suppose?”
“What do you mean?”