Even this little room has its secrets--a murder or two, I believe, and other things--secrets which I don't suppose there is gold enough in France to buy.

Well, I don't want to buy them.

You can go your way so far as I am concerned.

There is only one thing I want to know from you, and for that I offer you--the ladies, of course, I mean--five thousand francs each." "Five thousand francs!" Madame murmured.
Mademoiselle Flossie said nothing, but her eyes shone.
"The question, Monsieur ?" "What has become of Mademoiselle Phyllis Poynton, the young English lady ?" The eyes of Madame seemed to narrow for a moment.

Monsieur Louis lit a cigarette with fingers which shook a little, and the fair face of Mademoiselle Flossie was suddenly white.