He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. I have been the vicomte’s secretary, remember. I had a vague sort of idea that this was the region where one finds apartments, so I told my cabman to drive in this direction while I sat inside his vehicle and endeavoured to form a plan of campaign. “You’ve got my view,” he said, after a pensive second. “Why not? Isn’t the whole thing a lie? Isn’t her reputation, this husband of hers, the ‘Alcide’ business, isn’t it all a cursed juggle? She hasn’t the right to do it.
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