"The Lady of the Lake, Master," said I.
He looked at me for a moment keenly, then relaxed his grip and shrugged his shoulders with the ghost of a laugh.
"If you see holes in ladders in this perspicacious fashion you'll have to forsake the paths of art for the higher walks of the Prefecture of Police."
He puffed silently at his pipe for a few moments and then turning his head away asked me in a low voice:
"How can you know that she is leaving tomorrow?"
I lied for the first time to Paragot.
"I overheard her say so while I was waiting with the tambourine."
"Sure?"
"Quite sure."
This seemed to satisfy him, to my great relief. How my poor little oath would have fared under cross examination I don't know. At any rate honour was saved. Paragot laid aside his pipe and looked wistfully into the past over his wine bowl.