"Well, she cannot be having a rollicking time. It would not break her heart to be found, one may be certain."
"In that case," I said, "she has only to give some one the tip."
"Oh, that would be dishonourable—she has a duty to fulfil to La Voix, she must wait till she is identified. And, remember, there must be no half measures—the young man must have the intuition to say firmly, 'Pardon, you are mademoiselle Girard!'"
Her earnest gaze met mine for an instant.
"As a matter of fact," I said, "I do not see how anyone can be expected to identify her in the street. The portrait shows her without a hat, and a hat makes a tremendous difference."
She sighed.
"What is your trouble?" I asked.
"Man!"
"Man? Tell me his address, that I may slay him."
"The whole sex. Its impenetrable stupidity. If mademoiselle Girard is ever recognised it will be by a woman. Man has no instinct."