About this time—that is to say, about the time the Black Hundred was stretching out its powerful secret arms toward Norton—there arrived in New York city a personage. This personage was the Princess Parlova, a fabulously rich Polish Russian. She leased a fine house near Central Park and set about to conquer social New York. This was not very difficult, for her title was perfectly genuine and she moved in the most exclusive diplomatic circle in Europe, which, as everybody knows, is the most brilliant in the world. When the new home was completely decorated she gave an elaborate dinner, and that attracted the newspapers. They began to talk about her highness, printed portraits of her, and devoted a page occasionally in the Sunday editions. She became something of a rage. One morning it was announced that the Princess Parlova would give a masked ball formally to open her home to society; and it was this notice that first brought the Princess Parlova under Braine's eyes. He was at the Perigoff apartment at the time.
"Well, well," he mused aloud.
"What is it?" asked Olga, turning away from the piano and ending one of Chopin's mazurkas brokenly.
"Here is the Princess Parlova in town."
"And who is she?"
"She is the real thing, Olga; a real princess with vast estates in Poland with which the greedy Slav next door has been very gentle."
"I haven't paid much attention to the social news lately. What about her?"
"She is giving a masked ball formally to open her house on the West Side. And it's going to cost a pretty penny."
"Well, you're not telling me this to make me want to know the princess," said Olga, petulantly.
"No. But I'm going to give you a letter of introduction to her highness."