“Yes, it is; but it comprehends precisely what I wished to say.” “Would you mind being more direct about it?” “I’ll be as direct as I can. What do you desire to know about her?” “Everything.” “Ah, my dear friend, Carter, but that is impossible.” “Then all that you can tell me about her.” “That is different. Yet—if you were to give me the precise line concerning which you wish information we might get at it sooner.” “Why? What is the matter with general information concerning her?” “There is no such thing as general information concerning her. She is not ‘general’ in any sense of the word. She is a many-sided woman. Young, you will say? Yes; but not so young as she appears to be. Beautiful? Ah, as a witch! Fascinating? She is an houri. There are no words to describe her accurately. What is the circumstance which leads you to make inquiries concerning her, my friend?” The detective hesitated a moment; then he said: “She is just now engaged, in company with a man whom we know on our side of the water as Bare-Faced Jimmy, in rather a large scheme. Jimmy has stolen the identity of a young Virginian who is doubtless dead—it isn’t unlikely that Jimmy murdered him and that this woman helped him do it. ‘The Leopard,’ as you call her, has married Jimmy——” “Wait, wait, wait! Married, you say? Impossible!” “Eh? Why impossible?” “Because, why should she have married a criminal, when she could have had her pick of titles over here many times?” “That is a question I cannot answer; only there is no doubt that she is married to Jimmy.” The chief of the secret police of Paris shook his head with emphasis. “Impossible!” he said again, with conviction. “Why?” repeated the detective. “Because—ah, who can give a reason for what women do, or refuse to do? Not I, although I have been studying them for years.” “But you have a reason for such a decided opinion, chief.” “Assuredly. Of course, Carter. There is a reason. We have it set down in our _dossier_ of her in the books; there it is a cut and dried opinion; just a practical one. Perhaps that is the answer you want to your question.” “Perhaps it is. Let me hear it.” “Wait. I will send for the book.” “No. Tell me about it, and her, first. I would rather have your version of it. Later, if you will permit it I will read the _dossier_.” “Assuredly you shall read it.” “Now, what is that cut and dried reason? Tell me that. I have an idea that it will supply some sort of a pointer in the investigation I am making.” “Possibly. Who knows? I have just told you that she might have had her pick of titles, here in France; or Austria; or Germany; or Italy; or even in Russia. Everybody who came in contact with her fell in love with her. She has been the ruin of a score of good men in the secret police of several countries. Two of my own men committed suicide because of her. She led them to betray their trusts, and so, dishonored them. Ah, she is a wonder, that woman! That leopard!”