But he
watched the Baron, and he took care that they left together.
"Are you going my way, Baron?" he asked, as they stepped into the Place
Vendome.
"I was going to the Cercle Anglais," the Baron answered. "Do you
belong?"
"I am up for a month's membership, but I am not elected yet," Duncombe
answered.
"Then you shall come in as my guest," the Baron declared.
"You are exceedingly kind," Duncombe answered. "I wonder whether I might
presume still further upon your good nature and ask you a question."
"The asking," the Baron murmured, "involves nothing."
"You bear, I am told, an honored name, and you are well received in
society. Why do you associate with murderers and thieves in that hell of
a cafe where I saw you first?"
The Baron smiled.
"My friend," he said, "I seek always the life amusing, and I find it
there."
"I was robbed before your eyes, Baron."
The Frenchman sighed.
"I am so sorry," he said, "that I did not see it. That indeed would have
been amusing."
"You know that the young lady who sat with us is dead?"
"A most bizarre happening," the Baron assented with a little sigh. "I
cannot imagine how it occurred.
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