"Yes, I believe so--a cousin of a generation even before mine. I wish I could have dined, I would awfully like to have met them; I shall have to make a chance in England. It is stupid not to know one's own family, but our fathers quarrelled and we have never had a chance of mending the break." "They were at the Russian Embassy last night; the throng admired Lady Ardayre very much." "And what are you doing in Paris, Stepan? The last I heard of you, you were on your yacht in the Black Sea." "I was cruising near countries whose internal affairs interest me for the moment. I returned to my _appartement_ in Paris to see a friend of mine, Stanislass Boleski--he also has a lovely wife. Look, she has just come in with him. She is in the devil of a temper--observe her. If I sit back, the pillar hides me--I do not wish them to see me yet." Denzil glanced down the room; two people were taking their seats by the wall. The mask was off Harietta Boleski's face for the moment; it looked silly with its raised eyebrows and was full of ill temper and spite. The husband had an air of extreme worry on his clever, intellectual face, but that he was solicitous to gratify his wife's caprices, any casual observer could have perceived. "You mean the woman with the wonderful _cigrettes_--she is good-looking, isn't she? I wonder who it is she has caught sight of now, though? Look at the eagerness which has come into her eyes--you can see her in the mirror if you want to." But Verisschenzko had missed nothing, and he bent forward to endeavour to identify the person upon whom Madame Boleski's gaze had turned. There was nothing to distinguish any individual--the company were of several nations--German and Austrian and Balkan and Russian scattered about here and there among the French and American _habitues_. The only plan would be to continue to watch Harietta--but although he did this throughout the dinner, not a flicker of her eyelids gave him any further clue. Denzil was interested--he felt something beyond what appeared on the surface was taking place, so he waited for his friend to speak. Verisschenzko was silent for a little, and then he casually gave a resume of the character and place of Madame Boleski and her husband, a good deal more baldly expressed, but in substance much the same as he had given to Amaryllis at the Russian Embassy the night before. He spoke lightly, but his yellow green eyes were keen.