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Tell me, is Madame Christophor half as charming as she looks?" "I have known her only a short time," Julien replied, "but she is certainly a very wonderful woman." "What does she do," Lady Anne asked, "to require a secretary?" "She is a woman of immense wealth, I believe," Julien answered, "and she has many charities. She is married, but separated from her husband.
She shook hands solemnly with Julien, and he performed a like ceremony with Lady Anne. "When shall I see you again?" he asked the latter. "You had better question Madame Christophor concerning my evenings out," she replied. "It is not a matter I know much about. I am sure you are quite welcome to any of them." Julien found a seat in the broad passageway.
Madame Christophor in a moment continued. "You know, my friend," she said, tapping the ash from her cigarette into her saucer, "your misfortune came just in time to save you from becoming what in English you call a great, a colossal prig." His eyebrows went up. Suddenly he smiled. "Perhaps," he admitted. "To be a successful politician one must of necessity be a prig."
"I wonder why she came to Paris," Madame Christophor remarked. "Is she in love with you?" "There was never any question of anything of the sort," Julien declared fervently. "You have seen her since she arrived in Paris?" "Entirely by accident. I saw her alight from the train. I was at the Gare du Nord to meet Kendricks." Madame Christophor leaned back in her seat.
She has all the freshness and vitality," she added, dropping her voice a little, "which seem to have left me forever." "You have experience," Julien reminded her. "Experience in itself is wonderful, even though one has to pay for it." They were in the streets of Paris now. Madame Christophor shrugged her shoulders and sat up.
Let me present to you Monsieur Bourgan of the French Detective Service. Monsieur Bourgan the Prince von Falkenberg Sir Julien Portel!" Monsieur Bourgan saluted. The two men looked at him, as yet they scarcely understood. "I suppose," Madame Christophor continued, "that I am a somewhat nervous woman, but you see I can always plead the privilege of my sex.
Jesen has lost his head a little; or is it the lash of his master which he feels? How can one tell?" "After tonight," Julien remarked, with a smile, "who will read Le Jour? I shall tell the story of the purchase of that paper by Herr Freudenberg. French people will not love to think that the pen of Jesen has been guided by the hand of Germany." Madame Christophor made a little grimace.
I have had impulses of curiosity." "Herr Freudenberg is my husband," Madame Christophor declared. Julien looked at her in amazement. For the moment he was speechless. "I say what is perhaps literally but not actually true," she went on. "He was my husband. We are separated. We are not divorced because we were married as Roman Catholics. We are separated.
I have satisfied your curiosity. You now shall answer a question. Who is Miss Clonarty?" Julien gazed at her in astonishment. "Miss Clonarty?" he repeated. Madame Christophor nodded. "The name seems to surprise you. A young English woman called on me to-day in answer to my advertisement for a secretary who could write and speak English.
The footman who had stepped down in advance had rung the bell, and the postern door already stood open. The lady did not at once enter. She was looking at Julien. This, then, was Madame Christophor!
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