"I am not sure; this one, I think," and Julius pointed to "The Fortune Teller."
"Ah! Describe her, monsieur."
"She was tall, elegant, charming in manner and appearance."
Poluski appeared to reflect. "The vision sounds entrancing, monsieur," he said; "but that sort of girl doesn't usually earn her crusts by daubing canvas in the Louvre at so much a square foot."
"Yet I saw her, without a doubt. She was not alone that morning. In fact, a friend of mine was with her."
Poluski turned to his easel. He was in no mind to discuss Joan with this inquiring dandy.
"That simplifies your search, monsieur," said he carelessly. "All that is necessary is to go to your friend."
"I cannot. He is not in Paris."
"Where is he?"
"Far enough away to render it impossible that he should solve my dilemma to-day. And the thing is urgent. I have a commission to offer, a good one. If you help, you will be doing the young lady a turn—and yourself, too, perhaps."