“Under conditions.”
“Monsieur,” said I in French, turning to Vauvenarde, “forgive us for speaking our language.”
“Perfectly,” said he, and he smiled meaningly and banteringly at us both.
“In the first place, Monsieur, you are aware that Madame has a little fortune, which does not detract from the charm you have always found in her. It was left her by her father, who, as you know, tamed lions and directed a menagerie. I would propose that Madame appointed trustees to administer this little fortune.”
“There is no necessity, Monsieur,” he said. “By the law of France it is hers to do what she likes with.”
“Precisely,” I rejoined. “Trustees would prevent her from doing what she liked with it. Madame has indeed a head for affairs, but she also has a woman's heart, which sometimes interferes with a woman's head in the most disastrous manner.”
“Article No. 1 of the protocol. Allez toujours, Monsieur.”
I went on, feeling happier. “The next article treats of a little matter which I understand has been the cause of differences in the past between Madame and yourself. Madame, although she has not entered the arena for some time, has not finally abandoned it.” I smiled at the look of surprise on Lola's face. “An artist is always an artist, Monsieur. She is willing, however, to renounce it for ever, if you, on your side, will make quite a small sacrifice.”
“Name it, Monsieur.”
“You have a little passion for baccarat——”