"Pavoya must have been at the house while Juliet was lunching with me," she told herself. "I shouldn't wonder if the Duke _had_ sold his pearls. Won't Juliet be _wild_ if she finds out the wonderful rope everyone was talking about last night was _false_?" Natalie grew so absorbed in settling just what she would write to Emmy West that she did not even speak to Billy when he went out. She was sure he was going to the "Plunderers," and she was right. Nevertheless, she had made one mistake about him. He had told the truth in saying that he did not know the name of the man to whom Claremanagh had handed a roll of notes. He did, however, wish to know, and as soon as possible. But he arrived to find everyone talking of "the 'Whisperer' stuff" in the _Inner Circle_. Most of the men were defending the Duke, who had an extraordinary way of making himself liked without trying; and this vexed Lowndes. He had a grudge against Claremanagh for marrying Juliet Phayre, the only girl who bad ever given him a heartache. Losing her and getting Natalie had made him the man he was. "What I want to find out is, _who_ is the chap Claremanagh paid about a hundred thousand dollars to last night, here in this club?" he said. "A hundred thousand dollars?" somebody echoed. "How do you know?" "I do know," Lowndes persisted, provocatively, and made up his mind to stick to the statement. "I do know. And what I'd like to know also, in the circumstances, is how did he get the money?" "Ask the winds!" laughed the other. "Easier to ask his wife." "You believe she knows?" "No, not how he got the stuff. But I guess she _thinks_ she knows, which is just as interesting." Juliet was utterly indifferent that night as to whether or not her thoughts were interesting to outsiders. Pat and herself filled the world for her. There was no one else--not even Jack Manners--who existed for her after she had read the "Whisperer": except Lyda Pavoya. But the Polish dancer was not for Juliet a fellow-being. She was a Lure-light, a Mermaid, a Siren. Simone was in the habit of buying the _Inner Circle_ for the Duchess on the day of publication. She had never been ordered to do this, but her mistress in the last place she had filled in New York had expected the "rag" to appear in her boudoir as soon as it was on sale, and Simone (with a certain cynical enjoyment) had unobtrusively supplied the paper to Juliet without being asked. It was a disgrace to New York, and utterly disgusting and unreliable, of course, and Juliet scorned it as a horrid beast. All the same, she read it every week before flinging it on the floor or pitching it into a wastepaper basket. Sometimes she was angry at its nasty digs at people she knew; sometimes she chuckled (one _had_ to!). As her car took her home from Jack Manners' hotel she suddenly remembered that it was _Inner Circle_ day.