"Why not? I scarcely know. My instinct! Don't!"
"I won't," Claude said.
"I'd give anything to read it. But if I were you I wouldn't let anyone read it. As you probably know, I'm in half the secrets of the artistic world, and always have been. But there isn't one woman in a hundred who can be trusted to hold her tongue. Is this the hotel? Good-night. Yes, isn't it a delicious coat? Bonne nuit, Amor! À demain!"
A minute later Mrs. Shiffney tapped at Henriette's door, which was immediately opened.
"It is all right," she whispered. "I shall have the libretto to-morrow."
CHAPTER XXIII
Two days later Mrs. Shiffney slipped Gillier's libretto surreptitiously into Claude's hand.
"It's splendid!" she almost whispered. "With such a libretto you can't fail."
They were in the deserted salon of the hotel, among armchairs, albums and old French picture-papers. Mrs. Shiffney looked toward the door.