"They say she's a spy!" "On my track very likely," he declared with a grin.
She threw herself back in her seat and laughed.
"Conceited! Why should any one want to be on your track?
Come and see me dance at the Comique to-morrow night." "Can't," he declared.

"My sister's coming over from England." "Stupid!" "Oh, I'll come one night," he declared.

"Order some coffee, won't you--and what liqueurs ?" "I'll go and fetch my friends," she declared, rising.

"We'll all have coffee together." "Who are they ?" he asked.
She pointed to a little group down the room--two men and a woman.

The men were French, one middle-aged and one young, dark, immaculate, and with the slightly bored air affected by young Frenchmen of fashion; the woman was strikingly handsome and magnificently dressed.