"Unattainable?" Liane repeated in a liquid voice: "What a dismal word, monsieur!" "It means what it means, mademoiselle."
"To the contrary, monsieur, it means what you wish it to mean. You should revise your lexicon."
"Now it is mademoiselle who is too flattering. And where is that good Monsieur Monk to-night?"
The woman overlooked the innuendo; or, rather, buried it under a landslide of emotional acting.
"Ah, monsieur! but I am desolated, inconsolable. He has gone away!"
"Monsieur Monk?" Lanyard opened his eyes wide.
"Who else? He has left France, he has returned to his barbarous America, with his beautiful motor car, his kind heart, and all his millions!"
"And the excellent Phinuit?" "That one as well."
"How long ago?"
"A week to-morrow they did sail from Cherbourg. It is a week since anyone has heard me laugh."