“He played better than I did anticipate,” said Mr. Ziegler, lighting a cigarette, after he had nonchalantly acknowledged the presentation to him of Miss Ingate.  “But of what use is this French public?  None.  Even had he succeeded here it would have meant nothing.  Nothing.  In music Paris does not exist.  There are six towns in Germany where success means vorldt-reputation.  Not that he would succeed in Germany.  He has not studied in Germany.  And outside Germany there are no schools.  However, we have the intention to impose our culture upon all European nations, including France.  In one year our army will be here—­in Paris.  I should wait for that, but probably I shall be called up.  In any case, I shall be present.”

“But whatever do you mean?” cried Miss Ingate, aghast.

“What do I mean?  I mean our army will be here.  All know it in Germany.  They know it in Paris!  But what can they do?  How can they stop us?...  Decadent!...”  He laughed easily.

“Oh, my chocolates!” exclaimed Miss Thompkins.  “I’ve left them in the hall!”

“No, here they are,” said Nick, handing the box.

To Audrey it seemed to be the identical box that Mr. Gilman had been carrying.  But of course it might not be.  Thousands of chocolate boxes resemble each other exactly.

Carefully ignoring Mr. Ziegler, Audrey remarked to Tommy with a light-heartedness which she did not feel: 

“Well, what did you think of Jane this afternoon?”

“Jane?”

“Jane Foley.  Nick was taking you to see her, wasn’t she?”

“Oh, yes!” said Tommy with a bright smile.  “But I didn’t go.  I went for a motor drive with Mr. Gilman.”

There was a short pause.  At length Tommy said: 

“So he’s got the goods on you at last!”

“Who?” Audrey sharply questioned.

“Dauphin.  I knew he would.  Remember my words.  That portrait will cost you forty thousand francs, not counting the frame.”

This was the end of the concert.

CHAPTER XLV

STRANGE RESULT OF A QUARREL

The next afternoon Audrey sat nervous and expectant, but highly finished, in her drawing-room at the Hotel du Danube.  Miss Ingate had gone out, pretending to be quite unaware that she had been sent out.  The more detailed part of Audrey’s toilette had been accomplished subsequent to Miss Ingate’s departure, for Audrey had been at pains to inform Miss Ingate that she, Audrey, was even less interested than usual in her appearance that afternoon.  They were close and mutually reliable friends; but every friendship has its reservations.  Elise also was out; indeed, Miss Ingate had taken her.