All that I want from you is information.

And for that I am willing to pay." Monsieur Louis interposed.

He stroked his little black moustache with a much beringed hand.

With the other he gesticulated.
"Monsieur talks reasonably," he declared, "but why all this mystery?
Why this feigned drunkenness?
Why the show of arms?
If we can help Monsieur--it is an affair of pleasure, and if he chooses to make a present to these ladies in return--why, no doubt they will be charmed.
Me, I presume, he has no intention to insult.

Permit me, Monsieur." He drew a card from a small gold case, and presented it to Duncombe, who accepted it with a little bow.
"If I can aid you in any way," Monsieur Louis continued, "I am entirely at your service, but I require first of all that in addressing us you recognize my position as a French nobleman, who amuses himself in this place as you, Monsieur, also do, and also that you unlock that door." Duncombe smiled quietly.
"Monsieur le Baron," he said, "I think that we are very well as we are--secure from interruption.