“Oh, I am speaking of women!”
“Thank you. But, speaking of women, what have you to say to the Marquise Desmoines, for instance?”
“So you know her?”
“I heard you speak of her last night as being both beautiful and clever.”
“But you know her?”
“I ran across her abroad,” said Lancaster, with an indifferent air. But before saying it he had hesitated for a moment, and Marion had noticed the hesitation.
“How did you like the Marquis?” she inquired.
“He was a very distinguished old gentleman, very punctilious and very bilious. He always wore a red ribbon in his button-hole and sat in a large arm-chair, and four times a day he had a glass of absinthe. ’Tis a wonder he lived so long.”
“Oh, did he die?”
“He is dead.”