When he inquired if anybody knew the Countess Narona, he was answered by something like a shout of astonishment.

Never (the conclave agreed) had such an absurd question been asked before! Every human creature, with the slightest claim to a place in society, knew the Countess Narona.

An adventuress with a European reputation of the blackest possible colour--such was the general description of the woman with the deathlike complexion and the glittering eyes.
Descending to particulars, each member of the club contributed his own little stock of scandal to the memoirs of the Countess.

It was doubtful whether she was really, what she called herself, a Dalmatian lady.

It was doubtful whether she had ever been married to the Count whose widow she assumed to be.