"Pardon the abruptness of the inquiry, but who was the woman in black?" I asked.
He looked at me curiously.
"Ah, you mean madame with the bag?"
"Yes."
"She was once the Baroness Frontignac."
"Was once! What is she now?"
"Now? Ah, that is quite a story." He stopped, shut the gold case with a click, and leaned forward, flicking the pebbles with the point of his cane. "If madame had had a larger bag she might have broken the bank. Is it not so?"
"You know her, then?" I persisted.
"Monsieur, men of my profession know everybody. Sooner or later they all come to us—when they are young, and their francs have wings; when they are gray-haired and cautious; when they are old and foolish."
"But she did not look like a gambler," I replied stiffly.