"What did he mean by saying that he had seen you before?" he asked.
"Just that. He had. I remembered him perfectly. He's the Marquis de Folligny."
"Pierre de Folligny!" in amazement. "Not Olga's Pierre de Folligny?"
"The same. I knew him instantly. I met him in London, at an evening garden party. That is why I didn't want you to make any trouble."
"De Folligny! I have met him. He used to wear a beard."
"Yes, when you didn't."
"I see." And then after a pause. "I thought he was one of that
Trouville crowd."
"He is, I think. How lucky I hadn't seen him there!"
They walked along for some moments in silence, Markham slowly stuffing tobacco into his pipe, his gaze upon the ground.
"Hermia," he said briefly at last, "you'll have to be careful."